Her Greatest Adversary
by TheFarmer'sArtist
Summary: As far as Alice was concerned, it was the Jabberwocky who's destined to be her most difficult enemy. But when she found out that her cousin ended up in Underland and right into the hands of a certain Knave, she begins to fear the worst.
1. Chapter I

**Disclaimer: Alice in Wonderland franchise and the film's characters regretfully don't belong to me.**

**Author's Note: **Hiya guys. The idea of this fanfic crashed into my mind a week ago. I actually had doubts about making the story since my university life's starting next month but alas, I can't get the plot off my mind so I decided to give it a try. This is my first Alice in Wonderland fanfic so please bear with me. Thank you!

**Friendly Warning: **The story will not follow the exact timeline and plot of the film. There will be deviations here and in the next chapters.

For now, you guys enjoy!

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><p><em>"..and the Hatter, oh Jen, you have to meet Tarrant! Then there's also the March Hare, the twins, and ah, yes, Mallymkun! I don't think she liked me very much at first though. She could be as <em>_snobbish as the Knave of Hearts sometimes but a_t least, he's not as mean as the Red Queen._ Still, it's all wonderful! I wish you were there with me."_

_Six-year old Alice Kingsley beamed brightly at her cousin, the enthusiastic spark in her wide blue eyes so contagious that her older girl couldn't help but throw skepticism out of the window and finally believe in her cousin's tale of this place she called Wonderland._

_"You said you saved the Knave of Heart's life when you grew as big as a giant. How'd you do that?" Seven-year old Jen Isidore struggled to keep her tone from sounding so curious but the excited smile Alice sent her clearly told her she has failed miserably._

_"Oh that. I think I had a bit too much of Upelkuchen then."_

_At the quizzical look that her cousin sent her, little Alice grinned sheepishly. "Eat-me cake. It's a cake that makes one grow."_

_The blonde's grin erupted into a giggle when she saw the brunette make a sour face. Her cousin hated sweets._

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><p>It wasn't a dream. It was a memory.<p>

With a shrug, twenty-year old Jen Isidore nonchalantly resolved to forget about it altogether. She had more important things to worry about, one of them being her tardiness.

She knew her arrival to the party was more than a tad bit late. Not that they could blame her. Ascot Manor was after all quite a long-distanced travel when one was from an entirely different continent. Besides, the only reason she decided to attend anyway was her cousin. And now, she couldn't find her anywhere.

When she first stepped inside the manicured lawns of the impressive property, she was expecting a dancing throng of aristocrats scattered along the estate gardens. The sight that greeted her instead, caused a genuine look of confusion to settle on her normally confident gaze.

Assembled around the gazebo was the crowd of people she was looking for. Their lack of movement emphasized the absence of merry-making. In fact, disappointment and bewilderment was on the majority's faces. It was as if something completely unwelcomed happened just now.

Her attention was drawn when she neared the pavilion structure, her gaze never missing the lone figure of a man inside. She only needed a quick glimpse of his face in order for her to recognize him. It was no other than Hamish. And if it weren't for the glum atmosphere that seemed to hang in the air, she would have laughed at how odd his face looked with that utterly dumbfounded expression instead of his usual irritatingly snobby one. What could have happened to illicit such change of countenance to the arrogant Ascot heir?

"Jen, is that you?"

She knew that docile voice anywhere. Without a second thought, she whirled around to face no other than Margaret Manchester née Kingsley. Just the perfect person to ask about Alice's whereabouts and perhaps the root of the enigmatic incident that happened before she arrived.

"Hello Margaret. It's been a while." Jen smiled warmly at her cousin and it was only after their exchange of curtsies did she notice that Margaret wasn't mirroring her smile at all. If anything, she looked stern and very much worried.

"He hit you again, didn't he." It was more of a statement than a question. "Where is he? I'd very much like to have a word with him."

Jen instantly looked away, her hand briefly traveling to her right cheek. With a light amount of the right shade of foundation, no one could have noticed the fading bruise marring the flawless skin. But then again, the experienced eye always knows how to look through. "This is nothing. I assure you I fought back." Her clenched fists betrayed the nonchalance in her tone, moreover when those agitated fingers twisted an expensive-looking diamond ring around her ring finger. "And Francis' occupied with the shipments for China so he won't be here until dinner. Let it go, cousin."

The weary finality in her tone thankfully kept the Margaret at bay. Though Jen was sure that the same tactic won't work on the younger Kingsleigh. Speaking of which. "Have you seen Alice, Margaret? I've been looking for here since I came here."

Silence met her and Jen turned to look at older girl straight in the eye. This time, it was the latter who avoided her gaze.

"Is something the matter?" She pressed on, noting how the same look of distress crossed the elder Kingsleigh's face just like that of everyone else's in the party. The only difference was the strong tinge of guilt that was present in her blue eyes.

"It's Alice. Right after Lord Hamish's proposed to her, that child ran away to who-knows-where."

At once, Jen fought the urge to cast Margaret an accusing look as well as to smile proudly in Alice's behalf. She needed not to ask Margaret as to why her sister abandoned a would-be engagement. In all the months that Jen and Alice weren't given the chance to see each other, letters were their most useful form of communication. The bond that she and her adventurous cousin shared was as close as that of siblings. She ought to know if there was anything between Hamish and Alice. But alas, her latest letters failed to even mention Hamish's name so it was no doubt that Alice was just as clueless about the proposal beforehand as she was.

"You honestly can't blame her Margaret. Alice, she's…" She wasn't sure if she ought to continue or not. But for both of their sakes, she knew she had to.

"…well, Alice isn't like _us_. At least, she refuses to be. And I'm proud of her for doing so."

And with that, she pretended to ignore the look of hurt that flashed through Margaret's blue eyes and turned on her heels, just in time to see a blur of golden and blue speed towards the forest meters away from the manor.

Alice.

She was too late.

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><p>Jen was only able to catch a glimpse of her cousin's signature thick mane of disarrayed blonde locks before her whole form disappeared entirely into the hole beneath the tree.<p>

"Alice!"

Even with franticness of her yell that was sure to be heard by anyone near the vicinity of the clearing, her cousin failed to answer her. There were only two possibilities which her brain could formulate as to why. One, her cousin might have hit her head in the process of stumbling into the wretched hole and lost her consciousness. Second, her cousin had fallen into a hole that was deep enough to prevent her from hearing Alice's responses from below because of the altitude. Despite the slim chances of a third probability, Jen hoped that both of the situations above were not the case.

Gathering her skirts, she quickened her pace towards the direction of the tree she last saw her cousin crouched under and felt all her energy drain her. She fell to her knees beside the gaping hole into which dear Alice tumbled over. The pit looked bottomless even as dared to peer inside, nothing but a massive pitch of hollowed darkness. The sheer memory of witnessing her cousin falling in there brought a frosty shudder down her spine.

"Alice it's me, Jen! Can you hear me?"

Still nothing.

She bit her lip, viciously contemplating about what to do. Alice's lack of response alarmed her to say the least. And with each passing second that ticked by, all the more time was wasted and all the worse the predicament might be for her cousin's well-being.

Ignoring the possible conclusion of Alice getting into more trouble than she was already in, she eventually quelled the idea of resolving the problem herself right there and then. If she was to go down in there with no certain knowledge of how deep the hole was, both she and Alice might end up being trapped in there without anyone else knowing.

With one last look at the rabbit hole, she was all intent then on wasting away a few more minutes to get help. It was just her misfortune however that she had accidentally stepped on the hem of her dress as she tried to stand up. The inevitable happened.

Her horrified gasp was in vain as she stumbled back, lost her footing and plummeted down to the very same hole her cousin, Alice Kingsleigh had fallen into.

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><p>She couldn't remember the last time she screamed. But as she continued to descend down the endless pit of what seemed like a nauseating whirlwind of random furniture and the likes, she became painfully aware that she was yelling at the top of her lungs all the while.<p>

Crash!

With an unceremonious thump, her body hit what she presumed to be the ground, full force. Almost immediately, she could feel a terrible headache coming. She clenched her eyes shut, slim fingers flying to her temples in an attempt to massage the pain away. Thankfully, it worked and she opened her eyes again only to regret doing so. Everything was upside down.

Or not.

For the second time, she was falling. And thankfully, something soft, albeit thin and scratchy prevented her body from hitting solid marble floor this time around. She sighed in relief, intent on thanking her savior until she saw what it actually was. There was no denying it. It was the gown Alice was wearing when she saw her rush towards the forest.

Scrambling to her feet in the most unlady like manner that would have made her younger cousin proud if she was here, her eyes immediately surveyed every inch and corner of the small room she was in. All she could see was a glass table at the center of the room and a dozen doors of different sizes surrounding the walls. Of course, there were also the two human-sized fissures on the checkered ceiling which meant that her cousin definitely went through the same ordeal as she did. But that was that. She was the only one in the room.

No sign of Alice.

Slowly but surely, black rage began to creep inside her chest, the immense concern she has for her cousin slowly ebbing away her usual iron-clad composure. In her arms lay Alice's dress and if she was devoid of it…

_No._

She closed her eyes and struggled to reign in her frustration. She felt sick from fearing the worst. With a heavy heart, she inched towards the table for support only for her weariness to leave her when she felt her hand collide with something. Immediately, her eyes flew open and her reflexes kicked in just in time to catch an ordinary looking bottle from falling off the table. She blinked, hazel eyes scanning the label that was attached to it. It read, 'Drink Me'. Moreover, the bottle was almost empty and by her estimation, it was only ten drops away from being completely devoid of its contents.

A soft creak stalled her inspection of the bottle. She turned around to find one of the doors slightly opened. Upon closer inspection, she was also able to spot a discarded key lying on the floor beneath the door. It was a clear insinuation that someone has already passed through it. Only problem was, the passage couldn't be more than two feet tall.

Hazel eyes lit up in realization, the vibrant glint in them sure to tell anyone who was to look that the wheels were turning furiously inside her mindscape, wasting no time in connecting the remaining pieces of the puzzle.

Gingerly, she uncorked the bottle. Then casting one last hopeful look at it, she raised the bottle closer to her face, threw her head back and tipped its contents over her parted lips. She would just have to trust her instincts as she normally does.

The effects were immediate. All at once, every joint in her body seemed to be shrinking. Ironically, it didn't hurt but it was assuredly a most uncomfortable feeling. For a second, she even thought she was hallucinating until she actually looked down to see her dress slip from the contours of her figure and drop to form a puddle of velvet maroon around her feet.

And then everything was dark again. It only took her a couple of seconds to become aware that she was just buried under the thick layers of her gown and another few seconds more to entangle herself from the sea of fabric. Then finally, she was free and her gaze immediately drank in all the largeness around her.

To say the least, she suddenly felt incredibly insignificant and before she could realize it, her eyes were darting for something that was remotely close to her size for comfort. She did not need to look too far.

Three strides away from her was another table, a hundred times smaller than the first one she saw. And as soon as her eyes found the piece of sweet, a grimace crossed her features. And then it clicked.

_"Eat-me cake. It's a cake that makes one grow."_

"Oh heavens, is this a dream? Don't tell me I'm in…" Eyes widening in recognition, she made a point to ignore her dislike for sweets and stick to logic. If her childhood memory serves her right and she really was indeed in Wonderland, she better keep the cake for future use later, especially after she made it through the door.

Mind made up, she was all too ready to retrieve the insufferable treat when the sudden cool breeze from the parted door hit her nude figure full force. Right. How could she forget she was naked down to her toes? Shivering, she laughed in spite of herself and buried herself back amidst the expensive maroon fabric of her discarded dress.

She emerged minutes later, thanking her couture lessons for the first time in her life. With a satisfied smile, she looked down and admired her work. Gone was the elaborate bodice of her court dress and in its place was a loose make-shift corset, showing off her shoulders and shaped tastefully with an outer layer of ruffled fabric that cupped her bust and hugged the small of her waist. With much effort of tugging, she has thankfully managed to make the hem of the petticoat reach her calves, giving decent glimpses of her shapely legs. The dark maroon ruffled dress that clad her figure was nowhere near as intricate and formal as the previous gown she was made to wear but she was proud of her craft nonetheless. The design of the dress was assured to enable her to move around more easily.

And now that she was clothed, she readily approached the table with the cake on top of it. Just as expected, she found bitemarks on it on closer inspection. Choosing not to ponder as to why her Alice would find the need to help herself with it when she was still inside the room, she tentatively reached for the cake and broke off only half a portion of it. It was the only size that could fit into the improvised pouch stashed around her waist after all.

Then as if on cue, the door produced another distinctive creak, all at once reminding her that she couldn't afford to waste any more time. Taking deep breath, she approached the door, hands trembling slightly as the flat of her palms made contact with the hard surface of the wood.

"I'm coming Alice."

Once forceful shove later and the door swung completely open, and lo behold Wonderland in all its glory.

It was just unfortunate that she was only given a few moments to marvel at the beauty of it. For mere seconds after her feet touched Wonderland's eccentric grounds, her attention was cruelly diverted by a familiar frightened scream.

Whipping her head at the direction of its source, she knew then that her hearing didn't fail her. Down across the orchard filled with giant mushrooms was her cousin, by her estimation just as small as she was, untamed mane of curly blonde locks in wild disarray as she broke into a desperate run.

But what little relief that wormed its way to her chest was crushed when her gaze found the reason why she was running.

Pursuing her cousin was an army of what looked liked armored red cards though it wasn't them that made Jen's heart skid to a momentary stop. It was the monstrous dog-like creature that led the troupe. With her size, Alice stood no chance. And nor does she. . .

Unless. . .

Fumbling inside the pouch where she kept the cake, she reached for the small portion of the cake she took and unhesitatingly popped the whole piece into her mouth.

Her apprehensive gaze never left the sprinting figure of her cousin as she did so, even as the uneasy feeling crept over her stretching bones. She didn't appear to care at all when the fabric of her dress began to hug her figure with tightening aggression, effectively removing every room of leisure breathing. Not at all. Her darkened eyes were focused solely on her cousin alone, strong features flinching not because of the uncomfortable fitting of her clothes but at the instances of advantage in favor of her pursuers.

When the hem of her dress finally stopped rising anywhere above the lower portion of her thighs, she finally took it as a sign that she had stopped growing.

And she would have broken into a sprint right then and there if not for the mighty neigh that forced her to hit the ground and avoid being viciously run down by a black steed that appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She barely had the chance to catch a glimpse of those formidable black hooves galloping to a stop next to her prone form on the ground before a ruthless hand forcefully yanked her to her feet and trapped her left arm in a vicious vice-like grip.

"Now what would a lovely foreigner such as yourself be doing in the middle of a hunting party?"

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><p>Thank you for reading guys. What do you think?<p>

TBC!

**~TFA**


	2. Chapter II

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

Thank you to everyone who alerted/favorited this story. I'm glad you guys enjoyed it. As to my dear reviewers:

**Ranguvar27: **Thanks, I'm glad you like her. She still has many sides to reveal, that I can promise you. Don't worry, I really intend to do my best in maintaining that spotlight equilibrium between the characters, especially since Jen's a main OC. The plot, well, I figured there's bound to be certain alterations what with another character besides Alice, caught up in the pandemonium that is Underland. Oh, and one Stayne/Jen interaction…coming right up!

**megumisakura: **Thank you! I'm happy you're pleased with the intro. Sorry for the wait. Here's chapter two.

**Phoene****:**Thank you! You'll find that Jen's character is just that. Silly's a word that I'd definitely not use to describe her. Here's chapter two!

**Victory Tastes Like Chocolate: **Thaanks! Currently, I'm already working on the next chapters so stay with me. Enjoy reading!

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><p><p>

Ilosovic Stayne sat tall, mounted atop the back of his horse, stance poised and back proudly erect. His gloved hands gripped Osiris' reins tightly, ready to expertly govern and maneuver the stallion anytime he wished too.

As per the Queen's orders, he led a portion of the red card army into the vast inexplicable garden outside Salazen Grum. Their spies had alerted them that there had been frequent sightings of the Hatter's companions around the area. And as much as he loathed having to deal with the insufferable troupe, they proved to be far too suspicious to be left alone for a confrontation.

His dark gaze surveyed the perimeter around the orchard, the corners of his lips curling into a malicious smirk as the familiar voices drew nearer, the volume of their chatters masked only by the stark-white wall obscuring them from their view. No matter. Their careless footfalls were enough to give them away and the strategy he devised to capture them was flawless.

"Release the Bandersnatch!"

Stayne remained steadily unfazed even as the beast roared out a ferocious growl, showing off its multiple rows of pointy teeth before slamming its large barrel chest against the thick barrier that separated it from its prey. The wall collapsed at once and he was satisfied to see the fierce creature spring into action with a disciplined line of armored soldiers following its trail.

The startled yelps that filled the air brought the cruel smile back to his lips. From his viewpoint, he could easily entertain himself by watching how the chase will unfold. And he would have rode off to participate in the hunt if he hadn't swerved his head to the right when he heard a brief rustle of movement.

The Knave of Hearts was entirely caught off guard with what he saw.

A tall figure of a girl stood not far from where the chase was currently taking place. By all means, he could immediately tell that she was a foreigner at first glance. Her olive skin was after all a sharp contrast to the usual pale complexion Underland's inhabitants sported. It nonetheless complemented the dark russets of her long wavy hair though, Stayne told himself distractedly. Moreover, she has strong features for a woman, a rarity amongst the delicate and submissive visage most women in the court wore, with the exception of the Queen of course. Pensively, the Knave lowered his gaze to study her angular face, tracing every outline of her sculpted features from the strong of her chin to the fine contours of her cheekbones.

Then there was her state of clothing. And regardless of how scandalously indecent her choice of apparel was, Stayne found it hard for his gaze to stray away from the teasing glimpses of flesh her legs was giving. Suddenly perplexed, he could have sworn that the hem of her dress was barely above her knees just a while ago.

But where did she come from?

His keen eye immediately scanned the vacant area behind her and once he was positive that she had no companion with her, he found himself fixated solely on her person once more.

If anything, with that murderous look she has trained in the direction of the Bandersnatch in pursuit of its unfortunate prey, she could have almost fooled Stayne into assuming she was intending to attack the beast any moment now.

Hold on.

Gaze narrowing suspiciously in realization, Stayne swore harshly under his breath. Since when did he allow himself to be distracted by the mere presence of a girl?

The Knave sneered disdainfully at his own carelessness and he gripped Osiris' leash and flicked impatiently at the reins, a carefully measured clap on the stallion's ribs quickly prompting the horse to leap into the air with a thunderous neigh. Its midnight black hooves immediately crashed stiff-legged to the earth as it descended, shaking the very ground and eroding the soil as his master steered him into the direction of the unsuspecting foreigner.

Stayne didn't seize the reigns until his target lunged for the dirt, unceremoniously throwing herself out of harm's way. Her display of clumsiness soothed his ego.

But then, seeing that her prone disposition wasn't helping the hemline of her skirt at all, the Knave decided to save himself from another potential source of negligence. Swiftly dismounting his horse, he was by the girl's vulnerable form in two consecutive strides. And without a moment's hesitation, he reached down to help her to feet none too kindly before his gloved hand gripped her arm.

"Now what would a lovely foreigner such as yourself be doing in the middle of a hunting party?" The seemingly lazy drawl in his voice was betrayed by the malevolent glint that glittered in his visible eye. Intentionally or not, the girl revived back his irritation of her when she proved to exceed him in size. He knew the girl to be fairly tall when he spotted her from a distance but he didn't expect her to actually be a good head taller than him.

"Let me go! I need to…" The words died on Jen's lips when she whipped her head and lowered her gaze to properly face her captor. At first, she thought it was the unnerving heart-shaped eye patch over his eye that stalled her resistance. But the more she studied his assertive form, the more she became aware that there was just something about the sinister glimmer in his eye that made her instincts scream at her to stop talking at once.

"Go on. You need to do what, exactly?" The casual lift of his brow was a mask to hide his annoyance. Usually, it was _him _who needed to lower down his gaze in order to meet his listener's eyes.

Trusting her guts, Jen opted to ignore his prompting query and resolved to change the subject instead. "Who are you anyway?" She glared at him, once again resuming her valiant struggle against his tight grasp. "And I said let me go!" Unfortunately, height advantage didn't come with strength.

"I'm the one doing the questioning here, girl." Stayne scowled at his hostage darkly. The girl was obviously trying to change the subject. Not that he was about to let her. "I will release you onlyif you answer my queries _honestly._" The impatient look in his visage book no room for arguments. "Now, in the name of the Red Queen, state your business here in Underland. "

_Underland? I thought it was supposed to be Wonderland? _Jen fought to prevent a quizzical look from invading her expression. "I…" She stammered nervously. In all honesty, she didn't know what to say. What does one do in Underland? Desperately, she tried to mull over her previous conversations with her captor in an attempt to find clues. Then she recalled his previous statement.

"I came to see the Red Queen." The words escaped her lips before she could stop herself. And for a moment, she was relieved to feel the grip around her arm falter before it stiffened again in an instant. No matter. The momentary lapse in his iron hold was enough to alert her that she hit the right nerve.

To his credit, the Knave didn't bother to conceal the mistrust in his voice. "And what pray tell, is your business with the Queen?"

"A rather interesting offer that would appeal to the Queen, I'm sure." She made a point to match his distrustful voice with pompous superiority. "As for the full details, I'll answer _only_ to Her Majesty from now on, Sir _Knight._" Her lowly assessment of his rank was a ruse of course. Judging from his authoritative stance and imposing demeanor, Jen had long assumed him to be a general at the very least.

With much effort, Ilosovic Stayne ignored his first impulse to strangle the girl for her insolence. How dare she belittle his position? Taking a deep breath, he strived to reign in his temper and watched her closely instead, contemplating her words. As far as he knew, the Queen isn't certainly expecting anyone. But then again, he has been a witness of the royal's unpredictability streak far many times to be too sure. If the girl was telling the truth, he was sure to gain some favor for escorting her to the monarch. If not, well, that could easily be remedied. "Eager to meet Her Highness, aren't we? Well, you better make sure to pique her interest girl. Because if you fail…" The Knave's voice dropped into a dangerous whisper. "..you'll lose your head." Flashing her a nasty smirk, Stayne released his grip. He didn't leave her side though.

Rubbing her offended appendage, Jen inwardly shuddered at his words though her outward expression displayed otherwise, a perfect mask of supercilious indifference. And before she could cement her act with a haughty retort, a series of heavy synchronized footfalls interrupted her.

It was the army of playing cards, fully garbed in red armors that covered their bodies and equipped with shoulder plates and spears with tips shaped like hearts. And they would have fascinated Jen if she hadn't seen them pursuing her cousin just a while ago.

Speaking of which. Jen's eyes widened, her cover momentarily forgotten as she sifted through their ranks for a familiar crown of blonde hair. Her frantic search was disrupted by a painfully recognizable growl. Feeling dread wash over her, her eyes skimmed past the legion of card warriors and locked themselves onto the huge figure of the white beast lurking at the end of ensemble troupe. The first thing she noticed was the loss of its other eye and she briefly wondered if it was her cousin who caused that.

"Report."

The Knave's authoritative voice from beside her set her on the edge at once.

"Commander Stayne." One red knight broke off from the tightly assembled group, arm raised in a respectful salute. "We've managed to catch all of them but one, Sir." The soldier informed his superior subserviently. And with a jerk of his spear, the army behind him parted to reveal their captives.

Jen's gaze fastened upon the prisoners faster than anyone. In the middle of the group were a white rabbit wearing an odd-looking waistcoat, and a frightened brilliant blue bird which she assumed to be a dodo. Both of them were tightly shackled and as much as she was dying to see her cousin again, the brunette was thankful of her absence this time. She was careful not let this show on her face though once she felt the Knave's watchful gaze on her. Jen stared back impassively at him and was satisfied to see him break eye contact first.

Grudgingly, Stayne ceased to study every inch of the girl's reaction if only to resume his interrogation about the hunting party. He had especially hunted for a spark of recognition on her face when she was presented with the shackled prisoners. But alas, none came. At any rate, he was inclined to believe now that she was nowhere related to the Hatter's companions. Turning back to the lesser knight, he inquired edgily, "You say one has escaped? Who is it? And where are those infuriating twins?"

"The twins were captured by the Jubjub bird just now, my Lord. And regretfully, all we know about the escapee's identity is that it was the Bandersnatch's intended prey." The soldier, seeing his superior's eye narrow in dissatisfaction, hastily added, "But we could safely assume it to be the doormouse, Commander! Regardless of size, he is the only one bold enough to engage the beast on a chase."

The knight tensed as his commander paused to consider his assumption and he could only wait with baited breath as the formidable knave turned to the enormous animal, as if asking it for confirmation. An agitated growl was the creature's only response, followed by a grim nod on his superior's part.

"Very well." Truthfully, Stayne was not able to obtain a direct answer from the beast. The irritable growl he got in response was nothing more than an incensed whine of pain. Unknown to anyone but him, all the Bandersnatch could care about at the moment was its gouged eye. No matter. It made perfect sense anyway for the doormouse to be the fugitive. The bold creature after all, completes his favorite gang of lunatics.

Now on to the more important matters at hand.

With undisguised excitement, the Knave held out a thrilled open palm in front of the tensed soldier before him. "And the Oraculum?"

The soldier didn't waste any time to redeem himself. Reaching inside his breastplate, it only took him a few moments' pause to produce the papyrus scroll which he kept beneath his armor. The red knight was all too eager please as he bowed submissively and deposited the rolled-up parchment into the awaiting hands of the Knave.

From her position between two armored knights, Jen watched the exchange with curious eyes. Her gaze was especially fixated on the scroll that was now in the Knave's possession. Judging from the extremely pleased expression painted on the man's face, the object must have been of great importance.

Before she could even ponder about what could possibly be written inside the parchment, Stayne –for she suddenly recalled the name which the red knight addressed him with- startled her out of her thoughts by suddenly whipping his gaze back at her direction.

"Interested, are we?" The Knave taunted the girl teasingly, expertly twirling the scroll between his fingers.

A disdainful sniff. "Not at all." Now that she found out that the man standing before her was the leader of the hunting party after Alice, Jen was all the more intent on getting under his skin.

Stayne's feelings were mutual. "The girl comes with us. A guest of Her Majesty, apparently." A pause and a mocking smile in her direction. "Restrain her."

At his command, the soldiers flanking her sides cuffed her wrists at once, paying no heed to the indignant protests from the startled girl.

Stayne too, ignored the sudden barrage of crude words that was then hurled in his direction, albeit torn between feeling amused and scandalized at such vulgarity from a lady. Really, the girl both irked and fascinated him to no end, the latter more so-if he was to be honest to himself- ever since she ceased to be a potential ally to the enemies.

Berating himself for letting such irrelevant thoughts to dwell in his mind, it was only when he was making his way towards Osiris did he realize something and had the sudden urge to look back. The Knave paused and reconsidered his line of thinking, before shaking his head entirely.

Ilosovic Stayne mounted his horse and signaled the army to trek back to the castle, all the while vowing to himself to know the enigmatic girl's name the moment they reached Crims.

Thus began the procession to Red Queen's castle. And amidst all the events that unfolded, no one had ever noticed the bemused pair of turquoise cat-like eyes watching from a distance. Nor did they see the face owning those eyes break into an ear-splitting grin before vanishing almost immediately in thin air.

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><p><p>

Every once in a while she watched her back, her normally vivacious wide blue eyes clouded with both fear and anxiety as she made sure that no one was following her.

So far, this dream has been nothing but a nightmare.

First, she had unceremoniously plummeted down into a rabbit hole which effectively knocked the wind out of her lungs the moment she landed. What she assumed to be the floor, turned out to be the ceiling and once again, Alice had found herself crashing face first as she hit solid ground. She had been shrunk and then enlarged and then shrunk again just to fit herself into the only door in the room that could lead her outside only to be greeted by a bunch of funny-dressed animals and a pair of twins that was twice her size. They had befriended her, only to be questioned if she was the right Alice once she was brought before the most disagreeable caterpillar she had ever met. Then came that bizarre prophecy that concluded her to be the savior of this mysterious yet fascinating place she was in. She denied it of course and the relief she felt once she finally convinced them was cruelly snatched away when they suddenly found themselves ambushed by the most terrifying creature she had ever seen and a whole army of weird-looking armored cards. If that wasn't enough, she was eventually injured and all of her animal friends, including the twins, were captured, leaving her here, alone and confused.

Where was '_here' _anyway?

Nineteen-year old Alice Kingsleigh looked around her surroundings, peering most of the time what with the thick mist blanketing the forest. It didn't help either that the dim atmosphere was giving her the impression that it was already nightfall.

"There's nothing after you, if that's what you're worried about."

Startled, Alice immediately whipped her head at the source of the distinctive voice. And when she finally found it, she could only stare, unsure of her eyes.

The voice came from a disembodied head of a grinning cat which hovered in front of a tree branch.

"I must be going mad." The blonde muttered, seemingly speaking to herself rather than to the floating head of the tabby cat. To her bewilderment, the cat's grin only widened, if that was even possible.

"Then you should feel right at home," the chesire said, "We're all mad here."

Alice blinked, suddenly feeling comforted by his words. And she would have let a smile slip from her lips if only the gashes on her arm hadn't reminded her of their presence all of a sudden. She winced and bit her lower lip, refusing to cry out a whimper of pain. "I thought I was dreaming, but this couldn't happen in a dream."

The cat nodded wistfully and glanced at her arm. "It looks like you ran afoul of something with wicked claws."

The blonde frowned, eyebrows knitting as she tried to recall the name of the foul beast. "The bandar…bennars.."

"The Bandersnatch," The cat guessed, smiling cheerily. Then suddenly disappearing in a blink of an eye, it reappeared next to Alice as a whole."You're lucky to have been alive. I might need to take a look at that."

The chesire drifted closer to her wounded arm and calmly expected the wound. "The slightest scratch made by the frumious Bandersnatch will fester and purify. Unless it's purified by someone with evaporating skills, like myself."

The hesitation on Alice's delicate face was evident but the sly creature paid it no mind. Leaning closer, it tried to lift the blonde's arm with the intent to lick the wound, only for the latter to pull back.

"What are you doing?" Alice asked him, slightly unnerved.

"It needs cleaning out." The cat simply answered.

The blonde paused to reconsider before eventually shaking her head. "I'd rather you didn't."

The chesire cat merely smiled at the girl knowingly before insisting to bind the wound. Alice acquiesced this time and let him wrap a handkerchief around her arm.

Again, the cat grinned and Alice couldn't help but blurt out, "I've never seen a cat smile. Who are you?"

"Chessur the Chesire Cat my dear." Chessur answered her easily. "I sleep all day and carouse all night. Why would I not be smiling?" Then, inclining his massive head, he asked, "And what do you call yourself?"

"Alice."

"_The_ Alice?"

The blonde frowned thoughtfully. "There's been some debate on that."

The cat's demeanor suddenly shifted after that. Its gaze eluded Alice and instead focused on her arm. Tying the binding tightly, the chesire cat grinned almost apologetically before stepping back. "Then you'd best be on your way." The animal advised. "I make it a rule not to get involved with politics."

Alice looked at the cat pleadingly. "Can you at least show me how to get out of this place?"

Chessur sighed. "If you truly are the Alice, the only way out is to slay the Jabberwocky. That's all I can tell you." He paused, seemingly hesitant before adding, "But you should talk to the Hare and the Hatter. They're the ones to help you."

"But how am I to get there?" Alice pressed, uncaring if her voice edged exasperation.

"I guess it can't be helped. I'll take you with me." The chesire said, caving in. "I'm on my way to dear Tarrant anyway." Without waiting for her reply, the tabby cat disappeared.

Alice waited patiently for him to re-materialize again. And when she looked ahead, she found him a few meters away. Only this time, Chessur has something cylindrical with strings attached on its ends hanging around its neck. Recognizing it as somewhat familiar, she hurried up to catch up to the creature. And when finally she was near enough to get a better look at the object around its neck, she gasped. "Isn't that the…"

"This is an oraculum, yes." The cat finished for her with an eerie smile.

Alice shook her head doubtfully. "But how? I've seen a red knight retrieve it while we were running away from the benda, I mean bandersnatch."

"But _this_ my dear girl…" The chesire's grin widened and as if to mock her, nudged the scroll around its neck and held it between it paws. "is the _new_ oraculum. It's from Absolem himself. Says ink and new illustrations appeared on some spare parchments he has stored, sometime after you left."

_New illustrations. _The words rang repeatedly in her mind and Alice face lit up suddenly. "If there's a new oraculum, then that means the prophecy about me has changed! That means I can go home now right?"

"Ah, we can't know for sure yet, sweet Alice. No one has seen the new illustrations yet but Absolem." And then clucking its tongue disappointingly, it added, "And he refused to tell me what they are. Rather unfair really when I've taken the liberty to deliver it securely to our beloved Hatter. "

Alice seemed to not have heard his last remark. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's look into it now." The blonde exclaimed excitedly. She reached out for the scroll almost impatiently only to have her hands batted away by a tsk-ing Chessur.

"Na-ah." The chesire cat admonished her with a mischievous grin. "Absolem's orders are strict you see." Without warning, the cat vanished again and reappeared a few feet away from the girl. "He told me that only the Hatter could open the scroll." Chessur chuckled when he saw the disappointed look that crossed Alice's face.

"Oh don't look so upset now, Champion. I'm sure Tarrant would be most generous to share with us the contents of the scroll." He told the sulking blonde consolingly. Then beckoning her to come closer, he prodded, "Well come on then."

Only when he was sure that they were by each other's side again did Chessur turned back to the girl. "By any chance…" The cat's voice suddenly adopted an innocent and carefree tone. "..you wouldn't happen to be with someone when you came here in Underland, would you?"

Taken aback, Alice glanced back at the cat, a genuine look of puzzlement crossing her fair features. "No, I…" She began distractedly, replaying the incident before she fell down the hole over and over in her mind. As far as she knew, nobody followed her after she ran away from the gazebo. "I came here alone."

"I see."

Disappearing further into the woods, Alice completely missed the devious grin that crossed the chesire's cat face.

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><p>Thank you for reading! Reviews are loved guys. ^_^<p> 


	3. Chapter III

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Alice in Wonderland.

Again, thank you to everyone who alerted/favorited this story. I very much appreciate it.

To the awesome guys who reviewed:

**Ranguvar27****: **Thank you for reading and your review once again. They're really beginning to serve as one of my pointers in writing the fic. There are more of those banters to come so head's up! Also, I'll admit I had a bit of trouble writing Stayne's initial impression of Jen so I'm very glad to hear I've managed to pull that 'attracted' bit off without going over the top.

Alice's initial reluctance in the film was what made her so humane and real to me so I definitely made sure that it would also play up in my story. It's good to know that you also noticed that. Enjoy reading chapter three!

**senichio-san24****: **Thank you for reading! All I can say for now is that Jen and Alice are actually total opposites in their childhood. They just rubbed off some of their traits to the other what with all those times they're around each other.

And don't worry, you won't fall off your seat…yet. Not until the next next chapter I think. ^_^ Enoy reading chapter three!

**Chocolate'sArtist:**Thank you for reading! I'm thrilled I had as much fun as you did with Stayne's interaction with our feisty OC. And speaking of Jen, it's great to know that you like her. Hope that won't change. Enjoy chapter three!

**Anonymous****: **Thank you for reading. I'm sorry for not addressing you properly in this note but there's a blank identification with regards to your review input so yeah..Anyway, I'm flattered that you like Jen regardless of your tendency to dislike OCs in general. Again, thank you for reading and enjoy chapter three!

**Victory Tastes Like Chocolate****: **Thank you for reading and another review. More details about the new oraculum won't be revealed until the next next chapter but I promise it'd be worth the wait so bear with me. Meanwhile, enjoy chapter three!

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><p>As the army reached the castle, Stayne dismounted Osris at once and turned to the sizeable portion of the guards that marched to a halt behind him. Wordlessly, he strode past the rabbit and the bird, both heavily flanked by red knights, before pacing to a stop in front of their tallest captive.<p>

Ignoring the scornful yet quizzical look that was shot in his direction, the Knave grabbed the hilt of his scabbard, expertly raised the sword over his head and effectively brought down the blade to clash against the metal connecting the girl's shackles to the other two prisoners.

With a jolt, Jen gasped in surprise, hands trembling slightly at the sudden onslaught delivered to the chain attached to the manacles around her wrist. There was a distinctive clatter as the iron restraints fell only to hang limply against the shackles confining the white rabbit's paws. Technically, all the Knave managed to do was separate the fetters that bound her to the now cowering animal. Her aching hands were cuffed still!

"I suppose you did that to impress?" Sarcasm was dripping from her tone as she glared down at him, raising her arms to wave her yet-to-be freed hands in front of his face.

"No. I did it to frighten you." Stayne answered her, smirking and looking pointedly at her still trembling hands. "And also because you're coming with me."

The smirk vanished from his face when he sheathed his sword and gestured dismissively to the guards. "Take those two to the dungeons then return to your posts immediately afterwards." He commanded. And with that, the Knave turned sharply on his heels, pausing only to glance meaningfully at the girl behind him.

For a moment, Jen actually considered turning around to the opposite direction and running away as fast as her legs could carry her. But when her hazel eyes fastened upon the guards stationed at almost every corner of the castle, she was given no choice but to abandon any inkling of rebellion on her part. For now at least.

Sighing inwardly, she began to trail after the Knave who, to her confusion, suddenly diverted from the path that led to the main entrance of the palace doors. Hastily, she quickened her pace to catch up with him, just in time to see the tall man make a sharp turn around a corner that seemed to lead to the right wing of the castle.

By the time she strode past the corner herself, Jen was surprised to see a dead end. She stared ahead blankly, positive that there was nothing but a thick plain wall at the end of the short hallway. Her eyes sought the knave quickly and she easily found him leaning casually against said wall, his visible eye closed and arms crossed over his heavily-armored chest. A sudden shift in his stance alerted her that he had finally sensed her presence. Her eyes narrowed warily. What was the man up to leading her on to a dead end?

Retreating away from the wall, Stayne merely glanced at the girl and beckoned her to come closer. He growled impatiently when she made no indication of movement. Really, it was _her_ motives that were in question here, not his.

Turning away from her, Ilosovic approached the wall again, but this time pressed one gloved hand firmly against a seemingly random brick amongst the many others that made up the entirety of the stone wall. There was the groaning sound of stones grinding past each other from beneath the ground before slowly but surely, the wall slid open to reveal a hidden staircase.

"After you." Bowing mockingly, Stayne thoroughly enjoyed watching the girl stand there with her mouth slightly agape at the unexpected revelation of a secret entryway.

In contrast, the infuriating smugness present in his tone prompted Jen to forcefully snap her mouth shut, the flush on her cheeks darkening as she walked past the smirking Knave and climbed up the hidden passage. Only when they reached the top of the steps did she decide against her will to acknowledge him again.

"Why didn't we take the main entrance?" She couldn't help but ask the Knave, matching his pace as he strode past her the moment she opened the door at the top of the stairway. Apparently, they ended up in an empty antechamber and judging from the ornate tapestries that decorated the crimson-painted walls, it was safe to assume that they were already inside the castle itself.

Stopping midway from twisting the knob of one of the doors across the room, Stayne jerked his head to face her. "And let any other man besides myself to feast on your indecency?" He purred, his dark gaze slyly making a point to stray away from her slowly reddening face to wander down the shortness of the hemline of her skirt. "I think not." He chuckled darkly when raised his eyes to meet her now furious gaze, reflexes kicking just in time to side-step a vicious kick aimed at his shin.

Positively livid, Jen silently cursed at the fact that her hands were still bound. If they weren't, she could have followed that kick with an unavoidable slap.

"You shouldn't have chosen such a revealing attire when you'd hate the attention you're bound to receive wearing it." The Knave scoffed.

His words offended her. And Jen wanted nothing more at that moment to tell him that she most definitely didn't intend to parade her legs in front of anyone, most especially to him. That the indecent length of her hemline was a consequence from eating that blasted cake. That she couldn't care less about the state of her dress at that time because she was too overwhelmed with the desire to save her cousin from the hunting party _he_ was leading.

But then she thought of her cousin and the risk of giving herself away. And all at once, Jen willingly abandoned any urge to save face. Her cousin's safety was more important and she didn't need the respect of a pervert anyway. Biting the inside of her cheek to restrain the retorts that begged to be released, Jen finally settled to just cast him one last withering glare before looking away. _Think of Alice, Jen. You can't slip up._

Stayne on his part watched the varying emotions that played across her face: first anger, then exasperation and resentment, then to his surprise pensiveness and resignation. The last two reactions didn't suit her, Stayne decided. By now, he has grown used and rather entertained to her unyielding feisty retorts in response to his goading remarks. It was a refreshing contrast to those false displays of flattery and spineless nods sent in his direction just to please him and gain favor.

Perhaps he should just tell her the real reason why he didn't choose to take her straight to the Queen right away? This sudden change of demeanor….it disconcerted him to be honest, not to mention, triggered this unpleasant alien feeling in his gut.

"The Queen would accuse you with impertinence for wearing that indecent outfit in her presence. Then it's off with your head, woman."

He didn't know why but there, he said it.

Though it was too late by now. The girl had already stormed to the other side of the room and seated herself in one of the chairs, with only her back facing him. The Knave swore inwardly. She was not listening to him anymore.

Deciding to no longer wait for a reply, the Knave quietly picked up where he left off earlier and twisted the door open. "Stay here." He threw quietly over his shoulder and let himself into the main hallways..

Right on time, a fish-footman came hurrying down the corridors in haste, no doubt running an outrageous errand for the Queen, which he was positive she had already forgotten by now.

"Halt." The abrupt order left his lips just as the fish drew to a speedy sprint in front of him.

At once, the footman stopped, albeit reluctantly, and bowed nervously before the tall Knave. "M-my Lord.." The fish began, hesitance evident on its face. "It's my pleasure to be of service to you but Her Highness ordered-"

"A task, I am certain, that has slipped her mind the moment you left the throne room." Stayne finished for him. He only offered the servant a brief conspiratorial smirk before continuing, "Now, I'm going to give you a set of instructions. You are going to carry them out without delay from anyone this time." The Knave made sure to throw in a bit of steel in his voice and was satisfied to see the fish nod its head fervently.

"Good, because I assure you I am not as forgetful as Her Majesty."

Gulping, the footman hang to the Knave's every word when the man resumed speaking, silently taking note of the new task placed upon his shoulders. The fish dared not to contradict a single command uttered, experience having already taught him never to question a superior. Finally, when the instructions came to a closure and Commander Stayne affirmed if he had understood everything, without a missing beat, the courier once again nodded its head.

"Excellent." Reaching into his pocket, Stayne handed a golden key to the butler which the latter readily accepted. And just before he began to stalk further down the hallway, the Knave dared to direct an unreadable glance at the closed door beside him.

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><p>Being chained next to the white rabbit all throughout their trek back to the castle was a hidden blessing. First and foremost, it introduced her first hand to the most astonishing realization:<p>

Here in Underland, animals can talk.

That was why when a soft knock alerted her to her feet from across the room, Jen was saved from the humiliation of freaking out of her wits the moment a fish, dressed as a butler, entered the room and introduced himself as Sebastian.

Nevertheless, she failed to conceal her surprise when the footman produced a golden key from its coat pocket and beckoned her to come closer. Her face lit up at once when Sebastian pointed at the manacles around her wrists when she was near enough. Eagerly, she crouched down to the butler's eye level and held out her hands, unmindful if she looked painfully expectant. Sebastian didn't disappoint her and Jen soon found herself soothing the welts that marred her skin the moment the shackles fell off.

She thanked the butler gratefully. And then remembering her manners, she curtsied only to blurt out. "Where's Stayne?" The question slipped past her lips unbidden, quicker than she intended to. Irrelevantly, Jen thought of how easily his name rolled off her tongue. And before she could realize it, her hazel eyes were already darting past the small figure of the butler and into the empty hallway behind it. There was no sign of the perverted Knave anywhere.

"_Commander _Stayne has already left for his private quarters, young Miss." The butler answered rather disapprovingly, emphasizing the title as to which he addressed the Knave. "He appointed me to escort you in his stead however." Pausing for a moment, it indicated its hand to the deserted corridors, as if willing her silently to go outside.

Jen hesitated. "Escort me where?"

"To the royal seamstresses." The fish replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Without looking, it gestured towards the entire length of her figure, particularly the controversial scantiness of her skirt, then added wryly, "Truthfully, you won't last a second in front of Her Majesty wearing such a revealing dress, milady. The Queen rather…" It paused, as if searching for the right words then finally drawled out, "..likes the attention to be centered on herself alone."

Jen blinked, remembering a certain Knave's words just before he left the room. He might have thought that she was not listening to him, but she certainly was. Though Jen hadn't believed a single word he said then…

Until now.

"Shall we get going Miss?"

The fish's inquiring tone brought her out of reverie. Nodding her head, she began to follow the footman out of the room.

* * *

><p>The parlor was plush; just like every single chamber she and Sebastian had bypassed. She really didn't have time to admire the décor, but one thing caught her eye. Hanging over the fireplace was a framed portrait of a very regal-looking woman dressed in an elaborate crimson gown. And Jen would have thoroughly admired the commanding and dignified way she seemed to carry herself in the painting if only the mood wasn't ruined by that enormous head fitted almost comically to her contrastingly petite frame. Why a perfectly executed portrait must be turned into a caricature, she didn't know why.<p>

To her right, Sebastian was busy speaking with the older women, all of which seamstresses, in the room. Jen was barely listening. She just stood awkwardly behind the fish-footman, not really wanting to involve herself in the rather heated conversation. Apparently, they refused to waste large quantities of precious fabric on a stranger that was almost twice their sizes without a valid reason.

"It's a direct order from the Knave of Hearts. Moreover, the young Miss is a guest of Her Majesty. Surely, that's enough, Lorraine." Sebastian was saying.

_"The Knave of Hearts couldn't be_** _him_**_, could he?" _Jen mused, the image of a certain raven-haired man with an eye patch, invading her thoights.

"T-the Knave? Lord Ilosovic Stayne you mean?" The woman spluttered, getting to her feet at once. At Sebastian's curt nod, the other seamstresses mimicked her reaction. "Heavens, why didn't you say so at once?" There was visible tremor in her voice. And when Lorraine raised her gaze to meet hers again, the disdain was gone from her violet eyes and she was suddenly smiling so sweetly at her that Jen had to hide a wince. She needed not to think twice to be assured that the sudden change in Lorraine's demeanor was a fraud.

Ilosovic Stayne. To her displeasure, she found herself repeating his name silently in her mind like a mantra. She couldn't help it. Ever since their first meeting, the man never failed to invade her thoughts every once in a while. She may not admit it especially right after that perverse remark back in the antechamber earlier, but the Knave, with his aloof yet assertive demeanor that was both infuriating and arresting at the same time, reminded Jen strongly of _him_. At that particular thought, her fingers found the diamond stone of the ring around her finger and her heart gave a most painful thump.

What was she doing? How could she possibly compare that perverted Knave to _him_ of all people? Moreover, how could she think about the man who was in charge of her cousin's hunting party in such a way that could easily border impropriety?

She needed to get a hold of her train of thoughts. And luckily for her, Sebastian managed to do just that when he coughed loudly enough to gain her attention.

"I'll be right outside to wait for you to finish, milady." The footman told her kindly. Jen smiled warmly at him. So far, he was the only one to treat her pleasantly ever since her arrival in Underland. For a moment, she actually considered letting the courteous butler stay as he would make a much more pleasant company than the seamstresses he left her with but alas fish or not, Sebastian was a male. The women may have decided to treat her like a longtime friend but the fact that Jen was aware that their act was insincere made her uneasy.

The second Sebastian disappeared behind the door, she was immediately ushered at the center of the room. Three seamstresses flanked her quickly and Jen was only given a devious wink as a warning before the women tore at her corset and the overall material of her clothing. And since the dress was makeshift and no real stitches pieced it together, she was left naked in a matter of seconds and was forced to stay that way until all the necessary measurements were made.

It was after three whole minutes before she was handed a robe to cover herself with whilst waiting for the dress to be tailored. And now, left with nothing to do, she decided to just seat herself on one the comfy sofas near the dressmakers' working table. That way she could watch the seamstresses weave without disturbing them.

"What brought you here in Salazen Grum, Miss?" A younger red-haired girl that was sent by Lorraine to keep her company and introduced herself as Grace suddenly asked in her direction.

Pressured by the stares that followed the inquiry, Jen had no choice but to mirror the words she told Stayne. "I came to see Her Majesty."

In contrast to the Knave's unconvinced reaction however, the girl looked immensely impressed with her answer. "To be granted an audience with the Red Queen is a remarkable honor! How wonderful! You are acquainted with Her Majesty then?" Grace's beady eyes widened dramatically in excitement and she leaned over to close the distance between them. "Surely you must be! That, or perhaps you came with an interesting proposal, yes?"

Jen merely gave the girl a cryptic smile which she knew from experience was much more believable amongst the fairer sex. And while the redhead broke into a dreamy chatter of how she'd like to be bestowed the same honor, Jen's mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to the younger girl, her query made it the second time now wherein Jen was asked about her business with the Queen. Twice she failed to reply with a direct answer. And she has a nagging feeling that she couldn't afford to beat around the bush should be faced with the same question the third time. Because by then, Jen was certain that it would be the Red Queen herself that would serve as her asker.

What's worse was she still haven't figured out this so called 'proposal' she was to present the Queen. Numerous possibilities have already popped themselves in for consideration but the most sensible among them was to offer the Queen her services as a lady of the court. By now, Jen already had the impression that it would be no easy task to win her favor. That would mean she would have to come up with something utterly brilliant and unexpected that would not only help her seize the Queen's attention but also place her in a tactful disposition that would enable her to gather information about her cousin's whereabouts. Jen severely doubted that a common position in the court could cover all that. In short, she would have to make the Red Queen to trust her. The only was question left was _how._

_"You better make sure to pique her interest girl. Because if you fail, you'll lose your head."_

The remnants of the Knave' threat didn't help her mind storming at all. In fact, it made her feel weary with frustration instead. Before she knew it, a tired yawn had already escaped her lips and beside her, Grace's continuous chatters had started to become vague and undecipherable. Jen didn't know why but it would seem that that tediously long trek back to the castle along with her frustrations all throughout her stay here have worn her out more than she anticipated. And she was just feeling so exhausted at the moment that she hadn't even noticed that she's been laying her head on the wooden table for a while now. Finally convinced that being physically drained won't help her think clearly at all, the tired brunette stopped resisting the comforting arms of a nap and eventually closed her eyes to welcome sweet oblivion.

* * *

><p><em>"Relax your elbow child. Yes, that's it—ow bloody bollocks!"<em>

_They had been sparring for fifteen minutes. And so far, no one has managed to make a counted damage to the other._

_Until now._

_"You should really pay attention to your own stance, Father." A slightly annoyed Jen advised. "And don't hold back. I can stand my ground."_

_If anyone was to see the fond smile that managed to make its way on his face, he was certain that they'd immediately doubt if they were really seeing Lord Damien Isidore, the perpetually callous and ruthless privateer of the Queen's Royal Navy. Then again, he couldn't blame them. After all, only a select few people know the supposedly heartless Captain's weakness, namely, his only daughter and child._

_"Are you quite sure you don't want me to hold back?" There was a visible hint of good-humored mockery in his tone that he knew would aggravate his daughter all the more._

_"Positive," was Jen's curt response, eyes never faltering in concentration as she shifted the blade of her rapier into the defensive position. And she has a plausible reason to do so because the moment that single word of affirmation left her lips, there was no mistaking the familiar battle-ready glint on her Father's obsidian gaze. No longer was this Lord Damien. Right in front of her was the fearsome Captain Isidore himself. She smiled beneath her mask. The latter was exactly who she wanted to face._

_"You asked for it, Princess."_

_To Jen, that was her one-second warning. The rest constituted of her father closing the distance between them in a heartbeat and she, barely twisting her torso in time to parry a lightning quick and well-aimed strike to her chest. The sudden overwhelming advantage didn't discourage her in the slightest. In fact, it only prompted her to tighten her grip around the scabbard of her sabre and slice it downwards to deflect a thrust to her abdomen. Just as quickly, she side-stepped to the left and delivered an onslaught of her own though she was not surprised when her assault was effortlessly blocked. They parted, only for their blades to meet again after a moment's pause. _

_The spar lasted for another fifteen minutes before it drew to a closure._

_"That shouldn't have been a draw." It was not a remark but an accusation on Jen's part. Her hazel eyes said it too the second they were unmasked. "You could have easily evaded me and still have time to counter."_

_"Oh hush." Lord Damien's tone was casual, completely unmindful of his daughter's darkening mood. "That's because I thought you didn't deserve to lose for improving so much." _

_At those words, the frown died on her lips. "You think so?"_

_"I'm certain you could best half of my men by now." The privateer affirmed wistfully. "Maybe I should have you replace them."_

_Jen raised her eyes to shoot him an incredulous glare but stopped midway when she saw the proud smile etched across her father's face. "I'm not even eighteen yet, Father. And that prejudiced decree clearly favors you men as Her Majesty's protector." Jen pointed out wryly instead, but was unable to prevent a grin of her own. "Besides, Mother will have your head for acquainting me with sabres instead needles again."_

_Lord Damien boomed a laugh. The Isidore patriarch was fully aware of how his wife disapproved of her only daughter favoring fencing instead of needle work. "Then best we head home now before your mother finds out you've skipped one of your couture lessons again, don't you think?" Then just as he took his beloved daughter by the arm, he added, "Though as far as those decrees and leeway in them are concerned, I'm not the queen's most trusted subject for nothing, darling." _

That's it!

With a jolt, Jen tore her head away from the wooden table and returned the startled stares of seamstresses who turned to look at her. And before one of them could even open their mouths to inform her that her dress was done, she has beaten them to it by snatching the elaborate scarlet gown from their grasp and tossing it carelessly on the floor. The brunette did her best to maintain the uncaring expression on her face at the inevitable appalled gasps that followed.

Without meeting their eyes, Jen reached for a piece of parchment and a quill on the table she was previously sleeping on. Wordlessly, she began to draw on the parchment, slender hands flying across the paper to inflict coarse lines and curves and every once in a while, she was pausing to inspect her work. The seamstresses stood seething a few steps away. They didn't dare utter a word but it was evident that they were confused and positively fuming with her recent actions. Guiltily, Jen tried to concentrate on the parchment alone and pay them no mind. A couple of strokes after and she finally set the quill down.

The atmosphere was thick with barely restrained rage from the latter when Jen handed Lorraine the parchment. Though the second her incensed eyes scanned the illustration on the paper, the poorly disguised rage on her expression melted into that of shock.

"B-but..why would you have us make an—"

"Just do it." Jen cut Lorraine off with an authorative tinge in her voice that booked no arguments.

The head seamstress could only nod mutely after that. As much as she wanted to throttle the girl right now for discarding an hour's worth of work, she knew her place. The woman before her was a guest of the Queen. "Grace, summon the blacksmith. Tell him to also bring his equipments with him."

Both women watched the young seamstress nod dutifully. And only after the redhead disappeared from the room did the taller of the two turn sharply on her heels, intent on occupying the sofa near the table once more.

_I'm sorry. _Jen's apology remained unspoken. Along with it was the relief she felt for at last, she'd finally managed to solve the puzzle that was her 'proposal' to the Queen.

* * *

><p>Thank you reading guys! Inputs are very much welcome. ^_^<p>

TBC!

**TFA**


	4. Chapter IV

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Alice in Wonderland.

Again, thank you to everyone who alerted/favorited this story.

**Ranguvar27****: **I ought to thank YOU more for your reviews. They really inspire me a lot! Nevertheless, you're welcome! Stayne for me is the most interesting character in the film and while I know that his malevolent reputation seems natural to him, Crispin Glover did a magnificent job conveying that Ilosovic was just waiting for the right moment to free himself out of Iracebeth's clutches. Also, I'm happy and relieved you caught on to how I like Ilosovic and Jen's relationship with each other to play out to the readers. Hm, if you think Jen's already cunning in the previous chapters, wait 'till you see her go full force in this one. Oh yeah, and you don't need to wait for too long now. _Half _of the oraculum's new prophecy is revealed in this chappie so stay tune!

**Niphuria: **Thank you for reading! The last thing I want Jen to be is a Mary Sue so although she'll most definitely play a large role as a main OC in this story, I work hard to maintain that balance I'm glad you pointed out. As for Stayne, I can never picture him as being too cheesy and kind. Quite the contrary, his dark and devious demeanor appeals to me (and the majority) very much. Again, thank you for reading and your review. Enjoy chapter four! :)

**James Birdsong: **Thank you for reading! I'll do my best to keep the other chapters just as cool so stay with me! Enjoy reading chapter four!

**senichio-san24****: **Thank you for reading! Jen views Alice as a younger sister so she's quite protective of her. In this chapter, I'm sure you'll be surprised to see just to what lengths Jen is willing to go through just to find her cousin and keep her safe. As for the diamond ring, well all I can tell you right now is that it _will _indeed play a part in the growing tension between our beloved Knave and Jen so head's up! And enjoy reading chapter four!

* * *

><p>"I can't lose this war to her again. Find Alice, Stayne! Find her!" Queen Iracebeth of Crims shrieked in despair and it was at that exact moment did one of the double-doors of the throne room swing open to reveal the short and anxious figure of a fish footman that was very much familiar to the Knave beside her. Not that she was aware of that last bit.<p>

From his position beside Iracebeth, Stayne's grip on the other end of the Oraculum tightened, causing the flimsy edge of the parchment to crumple beneath his fist. His face was thunderous as his singular eye fastened upon the butler whom three hours ago, he had left under _strict_ orders to take a certain brunette for a trip to the royal seamstresses. There was a reason why his instructions were like so. He originally intended to have the girl escorted to his private chambers to wait until he arrived from his meeting with the Queen. From there, Stayne would question her further as he had no plans at all to present her to Iracebeth without sufficient knowledge about her identity. If he was to vouch for her and avoid a scar on his reputation, he wanted to make sure that she'll knew how to tread on thin ice, namely the Red Queen's horribly short temper.

But now that the fish was here, where did that leave the girl's whereabouts?

"What is this? You dare barge in here uninvited vermin?" The Red Queen's contemptuous voice was loud enough to bring him out his raging stupor and the Knave decided then to salvage the situation for both the footman and more importantly, himself.

"Majesty—I .." He opened his mouth to speak, lips poised to weave out a crafty explanation regarding the fish's sudden appearance when the words were cut off from his lips by a painfully familiar voice.

"Your Highness, my apologies for the intrusion."

The modest and deferential proclamation came from the towering frame of a girl who revealed herself from behind the still closed door of the throne room. Though it was not her unexpected presence that etched the incredulous glimmer in his visible eye. For the second time around, Ilosovic Stayne found himself thrown off guard by the state of her attire.

Gone was that scandalously revealing dress that left little to the imagination, though in its place was not the elegantly tailored court gown he had in mind.

A long-sleeved crimson leather tunic with an intricately embroidered belt that fell just above her knees. Then a tight-fitted crimson vest, leather still but thicker this time and two shades darker, with a sturdy collar that brushed the nape of her neck and emphasized the criss-cross laced seams at the front. And on top of it all, a chainmail vest, woven together with what he presumed to be a hundred carefully-crafted bronze links that narrowed down to the curve of her small waist only to outline the shapely contours of her split riding skirt.

No. This was not what he had in mind at all. And in spite of himself, the Knave couldn't help but think that now armed with a mostsuitable garb, the title of the fierce stunning warrior he fancied her to be suited her more than ever.

Fortunately, Iracebeth had long so averted her affectionate eyes from his person and was just as transfixed with the girl as he was to notice that momentary flame of desire that burned fiercely in his own dark gaze.

Even so, without knowing it, the mixture of disbelief and skillfully hidden fascination never left his expression even as girl boldly took several consecutive strides away from the door, effectively taking away the attention from the terrified footman and onto herself as she paused to a stop at a respective distance near the throne and dropped on one knee before the Red Queen herself.

* * *

><p>The Hatter, the March Hare, and the Dormouse were each asleep at the table. Horunvendush Day had long so taken away the life from the whole of Underland. The entire world had turned gray and nearly reduced to rubble. The Red Queen is still in possession of the crown and with each passing day that followed, hope seemed to be slipping faster and further away for the resistance.<p>

As a cricket chirped loudly from where it sat on the dusty, unmoved minute hand of the lifeless grandfather clock, Tarrant shifted a bit in his seat, his eyes remaining shut. How long had it been now? Another week? Another month? Another year?

Hearing footsteps, Tarrant fluttered his eyes open and looked around him. Both Thackery and Mallymkun heard the footsteps, too, for as he lifted his head from his end of the table to see what was coming, the March Hare and the Dormouse did the same from their sides of the table.

"No room, no room!," grumbled Thackery as the March Hare quickly began rearranging the teacups and spoons near him.

Mallymkun merely yawned and rubbed her eyes, trying to get a better look at the little creature approaching their table.

The Hatter, at the far end in a highback chair, stared intently at the small, two-foot tall girl, studying every bit of her.

"New cup, new cup," the March Hare continued to rant, frantically rummaging through the disarrayed pile of dishes around him.

"What is she doing here?" Mallymkun asked aloud, though more to herself than to either of her friends.

Neither Thackery nor Tarrant seemed to have heard her for the latter merely leaned forward to address the little creature. "Your hair wants cutting." He remarked, a thoughtful smile across his painted face.

The small girl in question narrowed her eyes, trying desperately to see who had said that. Was it Chessur? It didn't sound like him though. After disappearing along the path near the battered windmill, the mischievous cat failed to re-appear again and guide the rest of the way to her. Fortunately, the area he had left her with had only one path so she really had no choice but trudge along with no idea where it would take her. And now, here she was. Peering ahead, she then retorted in a scolding manner, "You should learn not to make personal remarks. It's very rude."

Hearing this, Tarrant excitedly jumped up into his chair and hurriedly walked along the length of the makeshift long-table, not paying attention to what he stepped on – whether teacups, saucers, or cakes.

"Hey! Watch what you're doing!" Mallymkun shouted at him, but the Hatter ignored her. Thackery barely moved his teacup out of the way in time.

"It's you!" Tarrant cheered with all his heart as he expertly stepped down from the table and kneeled before the little blonde girl.

Alice could only stare up at the most eccentrically-dressed man she had ever seen, with his mismatched clothes and tattered hat. And yet there was something about his fascinating green eyes and heavily-accented voice that made him so familiar to her. Then again, it could only be because he's the first human she has encountered here.

Mallymkun snapped her out her thoughts as she put a teacup back on its place with a loud clatter. "No, it's not!" The Doormouse argued. "McTwisp brought us the wrong Alice!"

From across her, Thackery panicked as he pulled down on his ears. "It's the wrong Alice?"

The Hatter took no notice of them however, eyes only set on blonde. Then in a ecstatic voice, he assured the tiny girl before him. "It's absolutely Alice. You're absolutely Alice. I'd know you anywhere." He then looked back excitedly at his friends. "I'd know him anywhere!" He exclaimed.

Thackery and Mallymkun laughed happily at this news.

Without a moment's notice, Tarrant took his tiny Alice by the hand and carried her up onto and across the tea party table back to his chair at the far end. "Well, as you can see, we're still having tea. And it's all because I was obliged to murder Time waiting for your return." The Hatter rambled on, oblivious to the Alice's valiant struggle to keep up with him and not trip. Nevertheless, when they arrived at his chair, he let go of her and stepped back onto the ground. "You're terribly late you know." Then grinning playfully at the blonde, he waggled a thin finger at her. "Naughty."

Alice gave no reply, pondering, as she looked at the March Hare pouring tea through a broken cup into an empty, whole teacup. _"All of this is so odd…yet, it still feels like everything is as it should be."_

"Well, anyway," Tarrant went on stacking a few items on the chair to his right, "Time became quite offended and stopped altogether. Not a tick ever since."

Still lost in her thoughts, Alice followed the Hatter's gesture and took a seat. "Time can be funny in dreams." She finally remarked, looking up to see the Hatter smile.

"Yes, yes, of course," Tarrant agreed. "But now you're back, you see, and we need to get on with the Frabjous Day!"

At this, Thackery and Mallymkun held up their teacups cheering, "Frabjous Day!"

Tarrant turned back to Alice. "I'm investigating things that begin with the letter M." He paused as he leaned forward and then whispered, "Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?"

But before Alice could even pause to think about an answer, abruptly everyone chanted, including Tarrant, "Downal wyth Bluddy Behg Hid!"

"What?" Alice asked, confused.

"Down with the bloody big head," It was Chessur who answered her, suddenly appearing at a vacant seat at the other end of the table. And when her eyes fastened upon his chest and found the scroll missing around his neck again, she opened her mouth to question him. But the Cheshire Cat stopped her by placing a single paw above its lips as if to quiet her. Glancing meaningfully in her direction, the poured himself a cup of tea and casually resumed his explanation. "Big head being the Red Queen."

"Come, come," Tarrant interrupted before Alice could ignore the cheshire's request and remind him of the new oraculum. "We simply must commence the slaying and such. And therefore it is high time to forgive and forget or forget and forgive, whichever comes first or is, in any case, most convenient." The Hatter momentarily paused as he pulled out his pocket watch and eyed it. "I'm waiting."

Thackery tried to copy, pulling out his pocket watch out from a nearby teapot. "It's ticking!" He exclaimed in surprise. "It's ticking again!"

"All this talk of blood and slaying," Chessur began in a disappointed manner, putting down his teacup without having sipped it, "has put me off my tea."

"Ah," the Hatter commented with irritation. "The entire world is falling to ruin and poor Chessur's off his…" His gaze narrowed. "…tea."

"What happened that day is not my fault."

Tarrant's eyes shot wide as he made a noisy, sharp intake of air. Thackery recognizing the Hatter filling with great anger began shaking in fear, holding his teacup very close as he whined, "Oh, dear."

"But you knew it would happen!" Tarrant spat bitterly. "It could have all been prevented!"

"What do I care who wears the crown? The Red Queen has never bothered me."

Tarrant angrily slammed his fist onto the table. "No matter that she's enslaved half the population?"

"I don't know any of them personally."

"No matter that she stole the crown from her sister?" He raved.

"The White Queen should have put up a better fight." Chessur shot back nonchalantly.

Tarrant jumped to his feet, his eyes swiftly changing to a dark, treacherous green. "No matter the Red Queen rules with fear, terror, and torture?"

The Cheshire Cat shrugged. "I fail to see what any of that has to do with me."

"He failed!" the March Hare yelled, holding up a butter knife. "He must be punished! Shall we butter his ears?"

"Naught for usal, Thackery," the Hatter said between gritted teeth, his Outlandish accent present. "Chessur being slurvish…"

"Slurvish!" the Cheshire Cat cried, looking apalled at the insult.

"You are, Chessur. You always have been. An Outlander, in fact. And you'll never change."

"I beg to differ-"

"You're an Outlander if you're out to save your own skin!" Tarrant snapped angrily as he stormed his way over toward the feline. "You guddler's scuttish pilgar lickering shukm juggling sluking urpal. Bar lom muck egg brimni!"

Mallymkun had enough. So had Alice.

"Hatter!"

"Chessur!"

They both simultaneously called out.

The Hatter quickly stopped and blinked his eyes a few times until the dark green had returned to its normal brightness. "Thank you." he squeaked thankfully to the Doormouse though when his eyes met Alice's, those vibrant green orbs abruptly faded to a pale yellow for a second. His Alice chose to calm slurvish Chessur, instead of _him_.

"Oooooo, meow," Thackery added, but it nothing to placate the slowly simmering pot of jealousy inside him.

"I'm fine," Tarrant tried to reassure, his voice still a bit tight. His gaze turned into steel once more when the last creature he needed to hear, spoke again.

"What's wrong with you, Tarrant? You're always so angry. You used to be the life of the party. You used to do the best Futterwacken in all of Witzend."

"Futterwacken!" Thackery repeated as he began mimicking some of Tarrant's moves in his chair.

Though she felt very much curious about Chessur's last statement, Alice knew she had allowed the cat to stray away from revealing knowledge about the new oraculum for too long. She glanced at the Hatter with concern. She could tell that he's starting to fair not too well with the tabby cat's antics either.

"Chessur." She began, satisfied that her voice was firm enough to catch the attention of everyone.

"Yes?" The Cheshire Cat had the gall to look innocent as it raised its slitted eyes to meet hers.

Alice sighed in frustration. "Give Hatter the new oraculum already."

* * *

><p><em>"I can't lose this war to her again. Find Alice, Stayne! Find her!"<em>

That was all she needed to hear.

With naught but a single waver in her expression, Jen dared to meet those cold pair of crimson red irises that looked down on her with a mixture of skepticism and—dare she thank her luck—morbid Interest. So far, all she could really be grateful for was the fact that she was able to successfully divert the pressuring spotlight from Sebastian whom she had tricked into revealing Stayne's personal instructions about her on their way to the Knave's personal quarters. It's the least she could do to make up for threatening the poor footman of escaping unless he accompanies her to the throne room where the Red Queen's at.

Now that she's here, there was no turning back.

Iracebeth gazed down at the enormous figure who knelt respectfully before her. A foreigner, she presumed, and quite a bold one to show up here unbidden in the throne room. Then again, her presence in the palace alone was a much more pressing matter to discuss on its own. Crimson eyes narrowing dangerously, the red Queen leaned forward from her seat and asked in a skeptical tone, "I haven't see you before so I'm certain you're not from anywhere near Crims. How did you get here, foreigner?"

If her memory serves her right, Sebastian mentioned that Salazen Grum was located in Crims. It really helped that the footman was kind enough to answer some questions she had carefully thought out so to avoid suspicion. Confidently, the brunette raised her eyes to look directly into the Queen's cold visage again. During the whole hour she was given whilst waiting for the construction of the new attire she wore now, Jen was able to take full advantage of spinning a tale that could back up the impression that came with her garb.

And so the storytelling begins.

"By ship, Majesty. My companions and I had traveled across the sea with the intention to reach Salazen Grum." She replied steadily.

"Across the sea?" The Red Queen echoed in bewilderment, stiffening at once. It was evident that the cold expression from her gaze was slowly being replaced by partially concealed amazement. "But the only sea one can use to get to Crims is the Crimson Sea and it's home to vicious sea dwellers!" The monarch whispered so softly that Jen strained to hear her.

Thank heavens she dared not commit to anything concrete, less it come back to her later. Jen had no idea what or where the Crimson Sea was but she rejoiced inwardly at the fact that it was the Queen herself who laid down all the cards for her to take advantage of and use for cementing the credibility of her story.

"So far, no traveler has ever been reported to be able to cross it and lived." Expect the Knave to ensure her relief was shortlived. "And I don't recall you being with any companion whatsoever when I spotted you in the garden." It was evident that he was still suspicious of her as ever.

Gritting her teeth, Jen remained her eyes fixed on the ground. His interference was the exact reason why she had been trying to avoid even his gaze all this time. And while she already had a thought-out explanation so to answer his query about her companions not being with her, the Queen decided at that very moment to avert her apprehensive countenance on the Knave.

"You know her, Stayne?" She asked quite suddenly, tone deceptively soft. "You knew of her and you didn't tell me immediately?"

Ilosovic winced. "Yes, Majesty. But I did intend to tell you about her after we've discussed the oraculum. I assure you—"

"Silence!," thundered Iracebeth. "Why were you with her?" She screeched, suspicion and jealously burning in her crimson gaze. No longer did her gaze held the affection she usually reserved for him.

And before Stayne could placate his Queen with a plausible answer, Jen chose to beat him to it.

"Highness, your Knave was only kind enough to escort me to you." She interrupted calmly.

"Really." Turning away from Stayne, Iracebeth was only too glad to round on the foreigner instead. "And what of the companions Ilosovic denies he has seen with you?" She asked sardonically.

Jen merely dipped her head deferentially. "Your Grace was right about the dangers of those terrible creatures guarding the Crimson Sea." She began gravely. "Mere miles away from your shores, our ships were attacked by said horrendous beasts." From there, her voice adopted a disappointed tone. "My men fought valiantly under my leadership Highness." She whispered, closing her eyes in frustration. And when she opened them again, she made sure that they were glazed with just the right amount of bitterness and spite. "But they were too weak, too incompetent! And I was the only one to survive."

Living up to her reputation, the Red Queen didn't look in the least bit moved. But she did decide to believe the foreigner's tale. The girl appeared to be disappointed more with failure rather than her companion's lives and that attitude appealed to her. It reminded her of her own. Nevertheless, she continued to ask, "Why go through such lengths just to get to Salazen Grum?"

Without missing a beat, Jen answered her. "It's to request an audience with _you_. We originally intended to offer you our services, Your Grace."

"But there's no longer a 'we' now, isn't it?" Iracebeth commented unkindly.

"To my misfortune, you are correct, Highness." Jen agreed casually. "That's why I'm here to offer you _my _services instead on their behalf."

The Queen didn't look impressed. "The court is already swarming with courtesans if that's what you're implying."

On cue, Jen threw her head back and feigned a long hearty laugh. "Majesty…" She replied, shaking her head and coughing slightly as if struggling to contain her mirth. She waited until the now annoyed eyes of the Queen fell on her before continuing with an amused grin, "I mean no offense but never has it crossed my mind to compare my services to something as dull as a mere lady of the court."

Iracebeth had half of a mind then to order the girl's execution on the spot for her impudence, but curiosity got the better of her. "What services can you offer me then?" She asked, masking her curiosity behind a haughty tone.

"As Your Grace recalls, I've mentioned I was the General of the legion of men who dared to cross the infamous Crimson Sea." Jen began, inwardly relieved that the lie flowed from her lips as smoothly as it predecessors. "My proposition is simple." This was it: final piece of her proposal.

"I wish to resume that position here and lead Your Majesty's Red army to victory in the upcoming war."

Unsuspecting of such an audacious proposition, Iracebeth could only swerve her head to the right in surprise and sought her Knave only to find him as equally stunned as she was.

Nevertheless, Ilosovic was the first to recover. Stayne straightened from his position beside his Queen, looking twice as towering with the intimidating expression that penetrated his visage. "Apologies to disappoint you," The Knave sneered, not looking in the least bit apologetic at all. A blink of an eye and his gloved hand found the hilt of his scabbard. "But I'm afraid your desired position is already very much taken, _foreigner._"

"Jen. You may address me as Jen." Jen corrected him. Then locking gazes with him for the first time ever since she entered the throne room, she smiled shrewdly. "How does a duel for the position sound, Sir Knave?"

* * *

><p>The reactions were immediate.<p>

The Hatter looked up in alarm with a startled gasp, and all the color drained from his face. Thackery was more confused than shocked but he did clutch his beloved spoon closer to his chest and squeaked a worried, 'Oh dear!' Mally pressed her paws to her mouth in surprise, until her eyes narrowed and she whirled around to stare incredulously at Alice. As for Chessur, he had the decency to look sheepish.

Alice suppressed a sigh just as Tarrant rose from his chair again, eyes fixed darkly on Chessur for the second time around. The Cheshire Cat bore this calmly and merely flicked his paw in the air. A moment's pause and the scroll Alice saw around his neck appeared in mid-air before dropping with a soft 'thump' on the table.

The Hatter eyed the cylindrical parchment meticulously before returning his gaze back on the seemingly untroubled cat.

"It's from Absolem. He told me ink and new illustrations appeared on some spare parchments he has stored, sometime Alice and the others parted ways with him." The tabby cat explained. "He asked me to deliver it to you as soon as possible, Tarrant." His voice dropped into a whisper. "But I thought you'd like to relish a few moments of tea with our champion because I'm certain things are about to go topsy-turvy again what with a new prophecy at our wake."

Hearing this, the Hatter's eyes softened. A second's pause and he flashed Chessur an apologetic smile. Tarrant looked at the scroll again and this time, tentatively picked it up and brought it over to his usual seat at the head of the table. Just before he sat down, his eyes found Alice's and he felt a twinge inside his chest when he caught the eager look on her delicate face. While the prospect of a new oracle opened doors for an entirely different and much brighter future for them all, it also meant there was the tiniest possibility that the prophecy would foretell that Underland might not need any saving at all. If the latter part was true, Alice has the right to look that relieved right now and he needed to stop being selfish as to not want her to go back home.

_"But **Underland** is her home." _A stubborn voice at the back of his mind insisted and Tarrant shook his head vigorously to rid himself of the treacherous voice.

"Are you alright?"

Alice's concerned inquiring voice beside him was all he needed to hear. Blinking out of his stupor, Tarrant beamed positively at the blonde and winked. "Aye! Never been better, lad."

Sighing inwardly, the Hatter finally took his seat beside her and beckoned the others to come closer. Thackery and Mally didn't need a second invitation as they quickly rushed to his side. Chessur merely evaporated and reappeared to float on top of his hat.

And when Tarrant finally gathered enough will to spread the Oraculum on the tea table, everyone leaned closer to see it. On that very day, Griblig Day, the Calendrical Compendium of Underland which displayed the most important event of each day in the whole of Underland showed Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Then the picture repeated itself, and then again, and again until Tarrant was finally convinced that that particular part of the oraculum was in fact unchanged.

"I don't get it!" Mally exclaimed irritably, looking up at Chessur with suspicion in her gaze. "I see no alteration, Chess."

The cat merely fixed its turquoise eyes back at the scroll wistfully. Then addressing Tarrant, he suggested, "Perhaps we should move on to Frabjous Day."

Tarrant nodded and began to rolled up the Oraculum to where he knew Frabjous Day was bound to be illustrated. What they saw next earned louder cries of confusion.

It was Alice who first identified all the differences and her brows furrowed all the more in bewilderment. She had already known from Mallymkun that Underland has a different name for each day and that the Hatter had particularly rolled up the scroll to rest on Frabjous Day. So why is there an entirely different title for the sketch before them?

"Treachill Day." The blonde read outloud, and was a startled when the Hatter suddenly laughed in wry relief, "For a moment there, I thought I've lost my capacity to read."

"So have I." Chessur remarked from above him. And then evaporating from his spot, the tabby cat reappeared beside the Hatter, one paw extended to indicate the illustration underneath. Glancing meaningfully at the doormouse, he stated, "There's your alteration, Mally."

True enough there were changes that were not at all difficult to pinpoint.

While the sketch still showed the fearsome Jabberwocky, not one of them has expected to see the crouching figure of the Bandersnatch. Judging from the beasts' poised stance opposite each other, it certainly looked like both were aiming for the kill.

For Alice though, all she could focus on was the lone figure of a girl mounted at the back of the bandersnatch. Most baffling all however was, unlike with the old oraculum, there was no inkling of doubt in her mind now that the girl in the illustration was not her.

"The girl on the picture," She unknowingly began, "It's not me." For some reason, her disbelieving tone matched the disappointment she was feeling inside.

"True." Tarrant agreed at once. And when Alice turned to look at him in surprise, he merely beamed at her with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I told you I'd know you anywhere." The Hatter told her in a bittersweet tone that made her heart throb painfully inside her chest.

"The text says it all too." Mally interrupted, catching everyone's attention as he dragged his paw down to the encrypted text below the illustration.

_The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame_

_Jaws that bite and claws that catch._

_Nay my son, beware not if it came!_

_Kiotchyn, for here ye the frumious Bandersnatch_

_With the golden-eyed maiden, twas now an even match._

_There orgal the ferocious beast and the aggrieved lady stood_

_And stang the horrendous serpent broods_

_Crack then clang! Both parties sprang_

_And twas the Jabberwock whose blood went splatter-splack_

_When the glorious vorpal blade went snicker-snack_

_With its slayer's bleeding heart finally turning black._

"And look, there's more." Chessur added, gesturing meaningfully at the partially revealed sketch and text further down the unrolled Oraculum.

And as Tarrant rolled up the papyrus scroll to unravel a completely different illustration, he had the nagging the feeling that this one would be just as alarming as the previous one.

If only he knew how big of an understatement that was.

* * *

><p>Thank you again for reading. You guys are always welcome to drop in a review!<p>

P.S I don't think I gave my description of Jen's latest attire enough justice so if you guys want to see the pic that inspired her new wardrobe, the link is posted on my profile.

Again, thanks for reading. TBC!

**~TFA**


	5. Chapter V

**Disclaimer: **Alice in Wonderland is not mine.

**Author's Note: **I know it's been a while and I won't bother coming up with lame excuses. Just let me make it up to you guys. Enjoy! Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to Neshomeh. You know why.

Again, enjoy!

* * *

><p>Stayne stared at her for another minute, seeming beyond words. Then finally, he threw his head back and laughed.<p>

It was a scary sound.

When he looked at Jen again, his eyes were hard and menacing. "Back down now you silly girl. Stop this foolishness now while you still have the chance."

Jen arched one fine dark brow and smirked. "Scared?"

That changed everything. Looking at her in contempt Stayne shifted position if only slightly; his tight grip on his sword however, told a different story.

Jen felt adrenaline flow through her own body. The challenge had been issued and accepted; there was nothing more to say. They were now facing each other ready to fight. She had no idea how the Knave was in this mood and she shuddered at the most likely outcome of this skirmish; the knave's pride and his skill had been questioned and he looked absolutely determined to win. Relax, she told herself. She should be very familiar with this after all. Isidore senior was no different.

The brunette only wished to get this over with. She was much better at playing with words than fighting. Without taking her eyes from him, Jen reached out and picked a sword from the rack behind her.

She wouldn't try to use that first though, Stayne predicted. If she really had the slightest ounce of skill she has been so foolishly boasting, then she would go for disarming him first. The simplest way to do this was to break the wrist of his dominant hand. After that she'd most likely go for critical points and nerve centers. Something in the girl's stance led him to believe she was hoping to end this quickly.

Well, he would like to see her try.

A minute change in the Knave's posture alerted her, and then they were both moving. He swung his sword up and down in a perfect arc, aiming for her right wrist. Jen blocked easily with her own blade and felt the shock as metal clashed with metal. She instantly changed her grip and tried for a trap, but he maneuvered his sword out of the way and was facing her again as if he'd never moved in the first place.

The Knave smiled at her unkindly. He looked so confident of his victory. A small chill went through Jen, and for the second time she worried about her ability to beat him.

"You're so predictable, Knave" she told him suddenly, changing tactics. "I could fight you in my sleep." She feinted toward his wrist and then tried to sweep his legs out from underneath him.

He snorted, knowing better than to rise to the bait. He blocked and then tried for a trap. They circled each other warily.

Jen grinned at the intimidating man across her, knowing it was not a particularly nice smile. Her feet whispered across the stone floors of the throne room as she planned her next attack.

The Knave's only response was to give her an impassive gaze. "Next you're going to try for a head strike," he informed her coolly.

Jen faltered for a moment because she was thinking just that. "Wrong," she countered, just as calmly and went for a head strike.

"Who's predictable now?" Ilosovic twisted his blade sharply, got leverage on hers, and whipped it down, the flat of his sword's blade almost touching her shoulder blade. "Trap." He grinned nastily into her face.

And was startled for a moment. He hadn't been this close to her since he had first seen her in the garden. Her eyes—the color of deep amber that they were almost brown, so full of intensity and burning with a strange light. Full of fierce golden sparks of determination. For just an instant neither of them moved; their weapons down, their gazes connected. Their faces were so close their breath mingled.

Stayne gracefully slipped out of the trap. "That won't work on me again," he said brusquely.

"I beg your pardon?" The moment her sword was free of his, Jen snapped it up again, reversing her grip and thrusting toward his eyes.

"You very well know what I'm talking about girl," he growled and deflected her thrust with unnecessary force. "Stop distracting me."

"Knave. . . what are you . . . talking about?" In between the words she attacked, a strike aimed at his throat and then one to his temple. He blocked and evaded-which was just what she wanted. Evasion. Retreat. She was crowding him into a corner.

Stayne murmured under his breath and countered viciously, but it didn't matter. Jen blocked with a whirlwind of strikes of her own, pressing him, and then he had no choice but to retreat until his back was against the corner.

She had him.

"Hey, all's fair, right?" she told him, still confused. "And what do you mean, it won't work? I've got you, haven't I?" She flashed out a couple of quick attacks, more to keep him occupied than anything else. "You're caught, and you're going to have to let down your guard sometime."

The onyx eyes that had been stilled with nonchalance suddenly went cold. The color of black glacier ice. "Unless I do something unexpected," he said.

Years of expertise enabled the Knave to drove upward with breathtaking speed to catch her onslaught from below. Then he twisted, sweeping her blade in a circle, forcing her off balance, trying to topple her backward. As Jen fought to recover, he struck to her elbow. Hard.

Jen heard her own involuntary gasp of pain. Electricity shot up her arm, into her shoulder, and for a moment she lost her grip on the sword with her right hand. She would have thanked the Knave if he sliced her forearm open instead of striking the hollow sensitive tendon of her elbow with the flat of his blade. She forced her fingers to close on it again, but they were numb. She couldn't feel what she was holding. She couldn't block properly with one arm useless.

And Stayne was advancing, that deadly cold light in his eyes. Absolutely merciless. His movements were relaxed and easy; he knew exactly what he was doing now.

Two more whips of his blade and he got through her guard again. The other side of his blade slammed into her ribs and she felt another wave of sickening pain. Gray dots danced in front of her eyes and she shook her with a vicious frown when she thought she heard the Red Queen tut with evident mockery.

Pain sparked up and down her arm again, lighting every nerve. She had no choice but to back up. He was crowding her relentlessly, forcing her to the wall.

Stayne flashed a smile at her. Not the cold smile. This one was brilliant, and confident. It

made him look devastatingly handsome, and it meant that he was in absolute command of the situation. "You can give up anytime, now," the Knave said patronizingly. "You've been a worthwile challenge but I'm going to win and we both know it."

I can't lose this fight. For _Alice._

Suddenly that was the only thought in Jen's mind. She couldn't afford to be hurt or scared—or stupid.

There was too much riding on it. And since Stayne had the advantages of being perfectly unscathed, she was going to have to come up with some clever way to beat him.

It only took a moment to come up with a plan. And then Jen was carrying it out, every ounce of her

concentration focused on tricking him, banking all to her last resort. She stopped backing up and took a step sideways, deliberately putting herself in a position where she could make only a clumsy block. Then she gave him an opening, holding her sword awkwardly, its tip toward him but drooping too far down.

You see—it's my elbow, she thought to him, knowing he couldn't hear her, but willing him to take the bait. My elbow hurts too much; I'm distracted; the sword is no longer an extension of me. My right side is unprotected.

She was as good at it as any mother bird who pretends to have a broken wing to lure a predator away

from her nest. And she could see the flash of triumph in the Knave's eyes.

That's it; don't waste time injuring me anymore ... come in for the kill.

He was doing it. He'd stopped trying to get her into a corner. With his handsome—that was twice Jen surprised herself by suddenly thinking of him as such—face intent, his eyes narrowed in concentration, he was maneuvering for a single decisive strike; a takedown to end the combat. But as he raised his sword to make it, Jen pulled her own blade back as if she were afraid to block, afraid of the jarring contact. This was the moment. If he caught on now, if he realized why she was positioning her blade this way, he'd never make the move she wanted him to. He'd go back to disarming her.

I'm too hurt to block properly; my arm's too weak to raise, she thought, letting her shoulders droop and her body sway tiredly. It wasn't hard to pretend. The pain in various parts of her body was real enough, and if she let herself feel it, it was very nearly disabling.

Stayne fell for it.

He made the strike she wanted; straight down. At that instant Jen slid her leading foot back, shifting just out of range. His blade whizzed by her nose-missing. And then, before he could raise it again, while he was unguarded, Jen lunged. She put all the power of her body behind it, all her strength, slipping in between the Knave's arms and driving her shoulder blade to his midsection.

The air in his lungs exploded out in a harsh gasp and he doubled over.

The Knave landed with a thud. Before he could move, Jen snap-kicked hard, catching his wrist and

knocking his sword away. It clattered dully across the floor.

Then she held the pointed the end of her own blade to his throat.

"Yield or die," she said breathlessly, and smiled.

Ilosovic glared up at her. He was even more breathless than she was, but there was nothing like surrender in his visible eye. He was mad, frighteningly so. "Scoundrel! You tricked me!"

"All's fair."

He glowered at her from under the dark veil of hair that fell across his pale face. He was

sprawled flat, long legs stretched out, arms flung to either side, with the tip of her sword

resting snugly in the pale hollow of his throat. He was completely at her mercy—or at least that was how it seemed.

And then Stayne's upper lip curled. "Bravo."

So shocked was she of his appraisal that she barely had time to register him threw his head back and deliver a brutal kick to her shins. Jen sidestepped in time but evading gave the Knave just enough time to reclaim his sword.

A second after and the tips of their respective blades were at each other's throat.

"Enough!"

The shrill order came from the Red Queen who had risen irritably from her throne. When neither appeared to have heard her stomped angrily and in a threatening voice declared, "That's enough or it's off with both of your heads!"

This elicited the slightest of twitches from both combatants. It was the Knave who lowered his weapon first, pinning his opponent a contemptuous sneer, the fleeting ounce of respect in his eyes completely missed by his opponent as he turned away in disdain.

Despite the throbbing pain in her elbow, Jen held on to her sword until the Knave sheathed his. Determined eyes countered his sneer, only turning expectant when she met the Red Queen's satisfied gaze.

"It seems…" Iracebeth began wistfully and every nerve in Jen's body anticipated the Queen's next words. She won. Well, _technically_ it was a tie. But it was only because that arrogant Knave cheated!

She could feel the corners of her mouth twitching upwards in anticipatory triumph. She had this in the bag. She could feel it.

The Red Queen's eyes bore into her, and her alone.

Before flickering sideward to the Knave at the last second.

"…you have found yourself a new deputy Ilosovic."

* * *

><p>Understatement indeed.<p>

This time the illustration showed the Alice that should have been present in the previous section of the Oraculum and she was not alone in this one too. But instead of the monstrous Jabberwocky towering over her, Alice was locked in an even battle against a mysterious figure of that was by her estimate, a few inches taller than her. Looking undoubtedly human—what with two long legs in steel-plated shin guards and a pair of arms decorated in metal braces—the figure was a twin match to the armor Alice wore except for a single difference. The stranger was wearing a helm, a vicious-looking visor that resembled—to everyone's horror—the head of the fearsome Jabberwocky, which served to conceal its wearer's identity.

But while the others were too occupied with the illustration, the Hatter was more interested on the text scrawled underneath it. Tarrant brushed over the words quickly and passing line after line only served his eyebrows to inch further and further to his hairline.

His eyes flicked back to the illustration and frowned.

Was it Iracebeth?

_Nay_, Tarrant banished the thought quickly as it came and a wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was no such way the visor could accommodate that bloody big head.

Then who?

"The Knave!"

Tarrant clucked his tongue and shook his head at his friend. "If you recall Mally, our dear ol' friend should be much _much _taller—"

He stopped, noting that Mally was looking past him in horror. Only then did Tarrant register the sound of thunderous galloping and heavy footfalls. Making a split second decision he rolled the Oraculum and tossed it to Chessur, who caught it neatly before evaporating without so much as wink and a sheepish, "Goodbye."

No longer having the Cheshire cat to hide behind, Thackery scurried back to his seat.

The footfalls echoed louder and the Hatter shoved a tiny glass bottle to Alice's lips. "Drink this quickly," he whispered.

"Quick!" Thackery cried.

The effect was immediate. She shrank to a height of three inches and the moment she stopped shrinking Tarrant grabbed Alice and hastily stuffed her into a teapot then carefully placed it onto his lap below the table.

"Oh, dear," Mallymkun uttered nervously upon seeing dark figures approaching. To her right, Thackery arranged the dishes set before him wide and sipped at his tea, wide-eyed and trembling. The doormouse mimicked him.

Just then soldiers in red armor poured at the mouth of Tulgey wood. Leading them was the Knave of Hearts, looking as formidable as ever.

"Well," he sneered, dismounting from his horse as Bayard the bloodhound sniffed around the table."If it's not my favorite trio…of _lunatics._"

"Would you like to join us?" Mallymkun offered politely.

Stayne only scoffed and unfortunately, Thackery was not amused with this. "You're late for tea!" he hollered and threw his teacup at the Knave.

Stayne ducked just in time and raised a warning finger at the March Hare who only laughed hysterically. Knowing any further attempt of appraisal was futile, Stayne reined in his temper and strolled over to the leader of this band of misfits instead. His gaze narrowed at the Hatter who sat at the head of the table. "We're looking for the girl called Alice," he finally declared.

"Speaking of the queen," Tarrant cut in as if he hadn't heard Stayne at all, "here's a little song we used to sing in her honor." He looked to his friends and together they sang, "Twinkle, twinkle little bat, how I wonder what you're at, up above—"

Quick as lightning Stayne swooped down choked the Hatter from further singing. "If you're hiding her…" his paused menacingly, visible eye glinting with an almost cruel mirth, "you'll lose your heads!"

"Already lost them," Tarrant wheezed.

Thackery and Mallymkun roared with laughter. Annoyed, Stayne released his hold on Tarrant.

"Altogether now," the Hatter piped merrily. "Up above the world you fly, like a tea tray in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle…"

Just as the trio were about to finish the song, the collection of tables trembled and they watched anxiously as Bayard sniffed his way underneath them. The bloodhound came to stop at the teapot Tarrant held in his lap.

"Downal wyth Bluddy Behg Hid," Tarrant whispered to the growling dog. Bayard looked reluctant but moved away. He finally took off barking back into the woods.

"Want some more tea?" Thackery offered and threw another cup as the Knave took a cup of his own.

"Follow the bloodhound!" Stayne ordered almost lazily, sparing only a glance as the soldiers took off after it.

Meanwhile Mally had chucked a cube of sugar at the March Hare. It landed perfectly in his teacup.

The March Hare clapped, his eyes going wide in amazement as he breathed, "Oh, that's lovely."

Stayne looked on in disgust. "You're all mad," he sneered and threw down his teacup.

"Thanks very much," Thackery snickered.

The Knave ignored the urge to wring the lunatic's skinny neck for that comment. Instead, he mounted Osiris and took after the soldiers, Thackery and Mallymkun laughing the whole time.

"Pass the scones, please," Mallymkun said calmly to the March Hare as the Knave rode out of sight.

Tarrant smiled in relief, then, placed the teapot back onto the table. He opened the lid only to avert his eyes in haste. "Pardon," he said to Alice, quickly closing the lid. He opened it again just a tiny bit this time and pulled out some fabric. "One moment," he said and brought out scissors, a needle, and some thread. In seconds he made a make-shift dress and matching shoes to fit her new size. Looking away, he deposited the dress into the teapot.

A moment later knocking came from within the teapot. Tarrant removed the lid, pulled Alice out, and set her on the table. "Mmm," he looked her over and grinned. "I like it!"

"Good thing the bloodhound is one of us," Mallymkun spoke up, catching Alice's attention. "Or you'd be…" she made a deliberate throat-cutting gesture and pretended to choke.

Alice spoke in a low voice. "What do they want with me?"

"Best take her to the White Queen. She'll be safe there…." Thackery trailed off, his large curious eyes distracted by the utensil in his hand. "Spoooon."

Tarrant chuckled at his friend's antics before setting his top hat on the table. "You're carriage, my lady," he said gallantly.

Alice eyed it suspiciously. "The hat?"

The Hatter beamed at her. "'Course! Anyone else can go by horse or rail. But the absolute best way to travel is by hat." The Hatter turned to his friends, "Have I made a rhyme?" The March Hare and Dormouse giggled.

Alice hesitated a second longer before finally relenting.

"Oh, I love travelling by hat!" Mallymkun said eagerly, attempting to join Alice.

"Sorry, Mally," Tarrant said gently. "Just Alice, please."

The Dormouse's shoulder sagged but she could only pout dejectedly. It was always Alice.

"Fairfarren, all!" Tarrant said and he carefully put on his hat.

"Watcha mean?" cried the March Hare as he threw a teacup at Tarrant.

The Hatter neatly sidestepped to avoid getting hit. "I'll take her to the White Queen. Go to McTwisp and get the Vorpal sword."

He turned away, confident enough in his friends not to wait anymore for Mally's confirmation. Sure enough, the Doormouse took off running in the direction of the Red Queen's castle just as he and Alice made their way toward Tulgey Wood.

* * *

><p>Jen was fuming.<p>

For the nth time she glared at the curved narrow path where she last saw that insufferable man disappear into—right before he flashed that annoyingly superior smirk and ordered her to 'stay put'. She took little comfort in the fact that only a few moments earlier just before they left Salazen Grum, the Knave had to introduce her as his new _deputy—_he had all but spat the title—to the whole Red Army, all under the Red Queen's orders of course. She had particularly enjoyed watching that sour look on his face, as though he had just eaten something foul, the whole time he was discussing her solemn duties and responsibilities. More important than that however and this, she took seriously, was when he began briefing her about the first solid lead they had picked up regarding the possible location of this so called menace to the Red Queen, namely Alice, Jen's dearest cousin and the only reason she was putting up with his unpleasant company.

Jen still could not believe that all of the stories Alice told her in their childhood were true. A skeptic even as a child, Jen only ever let herself be subjected to the storytelling of talking rabbits and unusual tea parties because she enjoyed the way Alice would lit up everytime she described this fantastic placed called Wonderland. Her smile had always been contagious.

That's why hearing these strategies all for the sake of capturing her and then…Jen couldn't even bear to think what was supposed to come after that.

"_She's just a girl."_

The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself, unable to suppress the anger she felt for whoever was it that had given her cousin this burden. She had quickly avoided Stayne's narrowed gaze after that.

Luckily, he had dismissed her tone as that of arrogance. He had sneered at her and launched into a brief yet horrible tale of a young girl, a prophecy and the fearsome Jabberwocky.

The pride that swelled inside Jen for her cousin was disguised in a form of a smirk. "Then _I_ just have to make sure it won't happen again, _Commander_."

She may have laughed at the glare Stayne sent her way after that bold statement but Jen really did mean it. She'd be damned first before she let some Jabberwocky lay its filthy claws on her baby cousin.

Which leads her back to the source of her black mood.

She nearly lost a limb just to attain the position she held now. But what good was Deputy Commander when all she had done in the past half an hour was to '_stay put'_ while all chances of locating her cousin was out there, with Ilosovic Stayne no less!

A series of loud barks interrupted her inner ranting and she looked up to spy on the poor bloodhound the Knave blackmailed earlier, on a mad sprint toward the woods. Jen's gaze immediately swerved at the tail of the army that was following Bayard. There was no sign of the Knave of Hearts.

Boredom and instinct tugged at the pit of her stomach.

Jen hesitated for a span of five full seconds. And then seized Isis' reins tightly. The gleaming white mare snorted at her mistress once before she obliged and broke into a swift graceful canter.

"Deputy Commander, we are under orders to—"

Whatever the soldier's next words were had been drowned by the powerful sounds of hooves pounding against dirt.

* * *

><p>"And as in uffish thought he stood,<p>

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the Tulgey Wood,

And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two!

And through and through

The Vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

She left it dead, and with its head

She went galumphing back."

Tarrant fixed Alice a long solemn gaze, the irises of his eyes a pale yellow. "That's about you, you know?" he said softly.

"I'm not slaying anything. I don't slay so put it out of your mind," Alice stated firmly. "Besides, the Oraculum said…" she trailed off, suddenly unsure of what to say. Because of the Knave's sudden arrival, she wasn't exactly given time to sort out her feelings.

"Ah yes," agreed Tarrant though his voice remained neutral. "But there's also the last illustration. Keep that in mind."

"Mmm, mind," the Hatter repeated then plucked Alice off his shoulder and placed her on a tree stump. He began walking on without her.

"Wait!" Alice cried indignantly. "You can't leave me here!"

The Hatter immediately stopped, pivoted, and marched back to the stump. "You don't slay," he whispered almost tauntingly. His voice was now heavy with Outlandish accent.

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," Alice mumbled.

Tarrant peered down at the tiny girl and frowned. "You're not the same as you were before. You were much more… muchier. You've lost your muchness."

Alice's chest constricted at the sound of disappointment in his voice. "My muchness?"

Tarrant lowered himself to his knees and poked Alice in the stomach. "In there," he said, as if that explained everything. "Something's missing."

"Tell me what the Red Queen has done."

Tarrant's expression darkened. "It's not a pretty story."

"Tell me anyway," she insisted

Various emotions flitted about the Hatter's face. Anger, sadness and longing, most of all. For a moment, he just stood there, seemingly trapped in a world that he couldn't quite decide whether he wanted to stay or leave behind.

"It was here," he said looking beyond Alice at the clearing full of scorched stones, ashes, and dried wood.

She followed his gaze. "Here?"

Tarrant nodded and his unfocused eyes were glassy as he remained fixated on something Alice couldn't see—couldn't witness. The unshed tears said everything though and it broke Alice's heart to see him like this.

"I was the hatter to the White Queen at the time. Hightopp clan have always been employed at court." His voice lowered into a whisper and Alice strained to hear him. "Before the Red Queen unleashed the Jabberwocky and enslaved those that the monster did not kill."

Guilt tore through Alice. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "That's terrible. I'm so sorry…"

Tarrant did not respond.

Alice searched the Hatter's face, but he was still far away. "Hatter?" she called to him. "Hatter!"

Tarrant snapped out of his reminiscing and looked down at Alice. "I'm fine," he choked and looked away.

"Are you? You seem—"

"Hush!" Tarrant silenced her as he swerved to look around their surroundings. A moment later, Bayard's persistent howls echoed through the clearing.

The Hatter swiftly put Alice back onto his hat and sprinted across the rubble and deeper into the woods, desperate to reach its edge at the border of Snud and Queast. It was the closest route to Marmoreal.

"Go south to Trotter's Bottom," Tarrant instructed, his voice serious. "The White Queen's castle is just beyond."

They finally reached the border. Risking a glance back, Tarrant saw the soldiers marching closer. He removed his hat and looked directly at Alice. "Tell the queen I'm retrieving the Vorpal for her."

Realization dawned on her. He was not coming! She tried to protest. "But—"

The Hatter shook his head. "There's no time here, Alice. Now, hold down tightly."

Alice unhappily obeyed. After making sure she had safely braced herself, the Hatter spun his hat out of the trees to the gloomy plains. He let out a sigh of relief, seeing the hat land safely with the tiny girl.

Tarrant turned around and grinned.

The sight that greeted him forced the rest of his bold declaration down his throat. Leading the oncoming red army was not Ilosovic Stayne.

Green eyes met gold.

And when Tarrant shut his eyes, it was the script from the Oraculum that only he had been able to read swam before his vision. The words seemed to be imprinted beneath his lids.

Blood is the thing family shares

But it will be spilled when betrayal snares

The Champion of White with her golden hair

Shall battle the golden-eyed Chosen of the Red in despair.

Blessed by the vorpal blade, the former will aim to deliver

Cursed by the Jabberwock's blood, the latter shall conquer

The skirmish will be fiercer than any other

But the final battle scream shall be, "Zounder!"

"Halt!"

The firm command brought the Hatter out of his reverie. He blinked, finally making out the the red knights reluctantly pausing to a standstill and iron clasps shackled around his arms. Tarrant blinked again. And saw her.

"Stand back!" Jen swiftly dismounted Isis, shooting the Red Knights a warning glance before striding forward and coming to a stop in front of the strangely-dressed man. More or less she had gotten used to…unusual appearances Underland had to offer…but something about the man in front of her stood out. Whatever it was, she could satisfy her curiosity later. There is a much more important matter she had to discuss with him and she didn't have much time.

"You have to tell me where Alice is!" The request came out harsher and fiercer than she intended. She winced. It did not help that she was towering over him. However instead of the frightened or blank expression she expected he would wear, Jen was only met with hysterical laughter.

"Oh you mean the poor lad!" Tarrant exclaimed, a wild grin on his lips. "Think I saw 'im galumphing 'round Iplam. Or was it Witzen?" He shrugged innocently and pointed excitedly at her. "Why don't _you_ tell me where the poor boy is!"

Jen swallowed hard, feeling the last tendrils of hope begin to slip through her fingertips.

"Look," she lowered her voice into a whisper, "I'm Jen, Alice is my—"

The fierce neigh that pierced the air promptly shut her mouth and all traces of hope, disappointment and desperation fled her expression. Jen swiftly moved away from the strange man just as Stayne fell into a step beside her.

"And what do you think are you doing?" he hissed, tendrils of cold suspicion once again creeping in his tone.

Jen looked at him calmly. "I was interrogating him."

The Knave's upper lip curled. "I do not remember giving you my permission."

"I _do_ remember interrogation as standard protocol," Jen shot back.

Stayne smirked nastily in response. "Not when you are unable to secure your _superior's_ approval." He paused then leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "I will not tolerate disobedience next time." He passed by her the moment he saw her mouth open in what he was sure was a retort. Insolent girl. The Knave turned his attention to their captive.

"Ah, what do we have here?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth slanting to a smug smirk.

The Hatter beamed at the Knave jovially. "Stayne, you old dog! Why, 'tis been a long time, eh old chap?" Tarrant spread his arms expectantly.

"We've seen each other not even close to an hour ago," the Knave couldn't help but comment wryly, staring at the open arms in disgust. Finally, his gaze snapped up. "Now, let's get to business. You wouldn't have fled if you weren't hiding something. Tell me now Hatter, or the Red Queen—"

The smile vanished from the Hatter's face. "Down with the bloody red Queen!" Tarrant suddenly roared, his eyes no longer on the Knave's, who had reared back in surprise at the outburst.

Gold met yellow.

Jen, was it? Tarrant had made up his mind. He would destroy this Jen person. For _Alice._

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading.<p>

**~TFA**


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